


The Silence of Your Love

by malfoypolix



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Harry Potter, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Deaf Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy Being an Asshole, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gay, Gay Draco Malfoy, Good Draco Malfoy, LGBTQ Character, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:21:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 39,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27274090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malfoypolix/pseuds/malfoypolix
Summary: People refuse to believe Voldemort’s back, even though Harry seems to be living proof of it, with Cedric’s death, and his loss of hearing. Why won’t anyone believe him, though?Draco doesn’t buy it - and he’s trying to catch him in the act to make a fool of Harry. Breaking his things, shouting his name, learning sign language to make fun of him - you name it. But suddenly, Draco's put in a position where he needs to learn sign language. And when the bloody Chosen One is the only one who knows it, you have to take what you can get.Despite their differences, they both have one thing in common now.{set in 5th year}
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 50
Kudos: 216
Collections: Started stories





	1. Chapter 1

Hermione and Ron sat on either side of Harry, faces close to each of his ears. Harry, frowning, nodded slowly as the two started screaming at the top of their lungs. After a few moments of silence, he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I think you ruined whatever was left of my eardrums,” he said, standing up, putting his hands to his ears, then turning around to look at them again. “This is ridiculous. I thought you guys believed me.”

“We do,” Hermione said while signing with her hands, looking over to Ron. “It’s just so hard to process… You really couldn’t hear our screaming?”

“If I could, I think I’d have punched you both by now,” he sighed, sitting down across from the two. “I thought the first five times we tested it would be enough for you to process, though.”

“Harry,” she gently placed her hand on his, making sure to enunciate, “You’ll get through this.” 

Ron nodded. “You’re really brave, you know. I wouldn’t have been able to handle all of this,” he said while signing the same thing. Although their signing wasn’t as good as his, he was still grateful that they had been willing to learn - most of the Weasleys now knew basic sign language, too.

“Thanks again for letting me stay with you for the summer,” he smiled softly, squeezing their hands then letting go, turning to look outside the window. They were already on their way back to Hogwarts. Over the summer, Harry, Ron and Hermione all started to learn WSL, which was Wizarding Sign Language. With a bit of research Hermione learned that it was almost the same as British sign language, only with extra signs for Wizard terms.

Judging by the look on his face, Ron and Hermione both decided it was better to leave him be for the moment.

Meanwhile, in another carriage, Pansy Parkinson sat down, almost regretting doing so because she knew she had walked in on one of Draco’s rants - but not just any rant. It was the twinkle in his eyes that appeared whenever he talked about Harry.

“I mean, do you honestly believe he’s _deaf_?” He scoffed, waving away the treat Crabbe offered him. “Seriously. It’s definitely all just an act to make people gain sympathy for him. I don’t believe it one bit.”

Pansy frowned. “I mean, I just walked past their carriage. Ron and Hermione were signing to him, so…”

“Well, they can’t be caught slipping up, can they?” he spat, looking at her with disgust, folding his arms. “Don’t tell me you believe that _poor_ excuse of a wizard. And don’t even get me started on his lie about the Dark Lord being back. All of this is just to make everyone pity him, to get them on his side.” 

“Draco,” She sighed, almost in a disappointed tone, but she didn’t say anything further. She knew it was better to just nod along with his rants about Harry. He was impossible to reason with once he had his mind made up about him.

***

“We have tried to the best of our capabilities to make all of your classes easier for you,” Professor McGonagall said. Harry looked over to Hermione who was signing what McGonagall was saying. “Most of the teachers will write down anything important on the board for you. If you are having any difficulty with keeping up with the classes, please come to Dumbledore or myself.” 

Harry nodded, turning to look at her. “Thank you, Professor.”

She smiled at him almost sympathetically, then cleared her throat awkwardly. “Well, run along now. You’ve a feast to get to.”

Meanwhile, in the Great Hall, Draco kept glancing over to the Gryffindor table, sulking. Pansy, beside him, tugged at the sleeve of his robe. “What’s the issue now?” she asked, following his gaze to see if he had something to say about Potter again.

“Where’s Potter?” he folded his arms. “This is stupid.”

She opened her mouth to speak, then nudged him when she saw Harry, Ron and Hermione entering. Draco turned - the Gryffindor table was just behind him. “There they are. Wouldn’t be surprised if they got held up by something. If those three are missing, something’s always bound to go wrong.”

Draco snickered, pushing his hair out of his eyes as his stony eyes finally met Harry’s. “You could say that again,” he murmured, then waved almost menacingly. “Can’t hear me, can you, Potter?” He raised his voice.

Harry’s eyes moved down to his lips, trying to understand what he said. Frowning, he turned back to Hermione who had tapped him on the shoulder. He wondered what Draco said, but at this point, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. By the look on everyone’s faces, it seemed that no one believed that he was deaf. 

The next morning was dreadful. Harry woke up to the sun shining on his face. Since it seemed alarm clocks - or the chatter of his roommates - would not wake him up, he had to sleep with the curtains of his bed open. Blinking, he slowly put his glasses and got ready.

He was walking down the hallway with Hermione, on his way to his first class of the day. 

“Potter!” came Draco’s voice from behind. “Potter!”

Hermione looked over to Harry, who was continuing to walk, unfazed. She finally nudged him when Draco said his name a third time. He stopped walking, confused, following her gaze.

“Really committing to this act, aren’t you?” he said, folding his arms as he took a step forward towards the two. “You always need the attention to be on you, don’t you? First it was Cedric’s death… and now these stupid lies you’re spreading around. You could at least try to have a year where the spotlight isn’t on you.”

Harry helplessly looked over to Hermione, who winced, then translated what he was saying in sign language. He rolled his eyes, turning to look at the white-haired teenager in front of him, trying to ignore the small crowd that had formed.

“You know, there is one reason I’m glad I’m deaf, Malfoy,” Harry took a step forward, sizing him up. He was unsure of how loud his voice was or if his speech was comprehensible, but at that moment, he didn’t seem to care. “I don’t need to listen to any of your bullshit anymore. Though, four years was enough for your God-awful voice to come in my nightmares.”

There were a few low whistles and Draco’s eyes widened for a moment, before gulping, glaring at Harry. “You’re not fooling anyone with this,” he hissed in a low voice, almost as if he was trying to control himself.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dare to,” he mocked, nudging Hermione, who was shooting daggers at Draco.

After their first DADA class with Umbridge, the three were already tired of Umbridge and her stupidity. Ron and Hermione sat down beside Harry, who kept his eyes on the fireplace, expression blank.

“No one believes me, do they?” he muttered, looking over to his friends. “I can’t believe I got detention from Umbridge because she thinks I’m not really deaf.”

“Well, it was also because of what you said about You-Know-Who,” Hermione pointed, then pursed her lips when Harry rolled his eyes. “Sorry.”

“You should’ve seen the look on Malfoy’s face. He looked so smug. I bet he’s boasting about it now,” he chewed on his lip anxiously, then stood up. “I’m going to bed.”

“But Harry, we haven’t even had dinner yet,” Ron started, but Harry looked away, shrugging as he left for the boys’ dormitories. He exchanged glances with Hermione, who looked just as concerned as he did.

It seemed that this year was not going to go well.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New story!! Woo! Hope you guys like this one as much as I do!


	2. Chapter 2

“I’m going to regret asking, but...” Pansy said as she sat down beside Draco in the Slytherin Common Room, “why are you reading that book if you don’t believe he’s deaf? And where did you get it?”

Draco rolled his eyes when she grabbed the book from his hands, scanning the cover that said ‘Wizarding Sign Language for Beginners’. She opened it and flipped through some of the pages, seeing that he had left all sorts of notes and bookmarks. Blaise, who had entered with her, was peeking over her shoulder, snorting.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were learning sign language to communicate better with Harry,” she smirked. “Look at all these notes! You’d think you were taking this as a second language.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he yanked the book out of her hands, dusting it carefully as if she had made it dirty, holding it close to his chest. A devious smile on his lips, he chuckled to himself. “I’m learning it just so I can make fun of him.”

“Seems like you’re trying a little too hard to get his attention,” Blaise chuckled, quietening down when he earned a dirty look from Draco.

“So… you accept that he’s actually deaf?” she raised an eyebrow, not bothering to ask why he needed to learn sign language to make fun of Harry. Draco gulped, staring at her for a few moments, unsure of what to say, before shaking his head aggressively.

“What? I didn’t say that. I just- um--” he cleared his throat awkwardly, standing up and dumping the book inside his book bag. “Shut up, Pansy. You know I don’t believe that stupid Gryffindork. Now let’s go for breakfast.”

She gave Blaise a knowing look, following after Draco. “Whatever you say…”

In the Great Hall, Harry kept his head low. Most of the people he had liked to call friends before were now ignoring him and there was nothing he could do about it. If they thought he was lying about Cedric and him being deaf, that was _their_ problem… right?

He jumped when Ron tapped him on the shoulder, then sighed irritatedly. “What?”

“Nothing, just… you should eat. You didn’t eat dinner last night either,” Ron said, using one hand to eat and the other to sign. Harry nodded, picking up the toast on his plate, taking his time. 

“Don’t worry about what everyone thinks,” Hermione told him. “You’ll always have us. Oh, by the way, the package from my parents finally arrived.” She handed Harry a small package. Ron watched in disappointment. 

“Do I get a gift too?” he asked.

“Shut up Ron,” she snapped. “Open it.”

Harry looked up at her. “This might be a huge waste of money…” he said, carefully opening it and taking out the hearing aids, hand trembling slightly. 

“It can’t hurt to try. I know there’s no sort of cure or hearing aids in the Wizarding World, so…” She looked at him, practically urging him to try it on.

“What is that?” Ron asked, trying to take it from Harry’s hands, who slapped them away. “Hey!”

“It’s a Muggle device, Ron,” Hermione rolled her eyes. “It usually helps people hear, but… since this was the result of some sort of dark magic, I’m not sure if it will work,” she explained, watching Harry stare down at them.

Putting it closer to his ear, he quickly put it back in its case, shaking his head. “Maybe later…”

Hermione nodded. “Okay. Try them whenever you feel ready.”

He smiled at them gratefully. If there was one thing he could take away from all of this, it was that Ron and Hermione really did care for him. While it was disappointing to see not many others did, he decided he had to get over it and focus on the bigger issue - Voldemort.

As the three made their way to their first class, Potions, Ron and Hermione exchanged glances when they heard Draco call Harry’s name.

“Just ignore him,” Hermione mumbled, continuing to walk. Ron nodded. The two really weren’t in the mood to see Draco and Harry fight again. “Yesterday already caused somewhat of a crowd.”

“Potter,” Draco repeated agitatedly, catching up with him. He tugged at his robe. Startled, Harry turned around, then cursed under his breath. “Look at this,” he signed.

He gave him a quizzical look, exchanging glances with Hermione, who seemed confused too. “What do you want?”

He stared at him for a moment, then nodded. “Right, okay,” he said, then started to sign ‘you’re a dumbass’ to Harry, who wasn’t sure if he should laugh or get mad. He settled on the latter.

“I know you’re trying to prove me to be the idiot here,” Harry gestured to Draco’s hands, “but the only person who looks pathetic is the one trying to bully the deaf teenager. I don’t think you thought this one through.”

“ _Pathetic_?” he sneered, folding his arms. “Potter, the only one who’s pathetic here is you, thinking that we’d believe your lies.”

“For the last time, Malfoy,” Harry wasn’t the best at lip reading, but he could make do when all that came out of Draco’s mouth was the same bullshit. He shoved him backwards, “I’m _not_ lying. If you can’t accept that, please whine about it to someone who actually cares. Seriously, learning sign language? You’re such a pathetic git.”

Draco glared at him. “You’ll regret this, Potter.”

“I’m shaking,” Harry mocked, then looked up to see the crowd that had formed. Before the other could retaliate, Professor McGonagall had shown up, practically screaming for everyone to make their way to their classes. 

***

“Aren’t you worried about what Malfoy might do?” Hermione frowned as they sat down in the Hall for lunch. “He’s been surprisingly quiet since your… dispute last week.”

“What was that word?” Harry asked, staring at her hands. 

“Oh, um, dispute,” Hermione signed it for him again, then once more slowly, smiling proudly. “I just learned it yesterday.”

“I think you’re ahead of me in WSL now,” he said, and the two exchanged a small smile. “Anyway, he can do whatever he likes. He’s a coward, really. The worst he could do is learn more insults in sign language.”

“I don’t know about that,” Ron shrugged, “but I agree with you.”

“I honestly think we should just forget he exists,” Harry nodded.

“Must be easy for you, since you can’t hear him. Though, I must say, this past week without his stupid loud rambling has been quite peaceful,” Hermione pointed out.

“Rambling?” Harry raised an eyebrow, his eyes sliding over to Draco, who seemed to be laughing while talking to his friends.

“Yeah, he kept talking about you the first few days. Don’t even get me started on the stupid rumors floating around because of him.”

“I don’t even want to know…” he sighed, head in his hands. Harry was starting to make it a habit to sign while he spoke. It felt more natural to him this way, and it helped him become more comfortable with sign language. “I just don’t understand what his deal is. I never… I never wanted to be _enemies_ with him.” 

Ron simply gave him an apologetic look. “It’s not you. He’s the problem.”

But was that true? Harry wondered how different things would be if he accepted his friendship on his first day at Hogwarts. Well, he certainly wouldn't be friends with Hermione or Ron, and that in itself sounded like a nightmare.

Hermione nudged his shoulder. Harry finally snapped out of his thoughts and looked up at her. “Just… be careful the next few days.” 

He shrugged, unsure of what Draco could even do. The worst had already happened to him. It would be hard to top. 

*** 

“Where is he?” Draco said, clutching something in his hands tightly. “You said he exited the building!” 

“Just wait,” Blaise replied, folding his arms. “I saw him coming. He looked mad.”

He smirked. “Good.”

“Draco, don’t you think this is a little too much?” Pansy asked, frowning. “This doesn’t seem like a good idea-”

“Shh! He’s here!” he pushed Pansy out of his way, quickly making his way near the Great Lake. “Potter! Oh, right,” he muttered, turning to walk over to him, but it seemed Harry was already charging towards him. 

“Where is it?” He asked, nostrils flaring. “This isn’t funny.”

Draco tried to keep his laughter in. “I have no idea what you’re talking-- oof!” he balanced himself as Harry pushed him backwards. The white-haired teenager felt somewhat satisfied. He had hit a nerve - good. He went near the edge of the water, holding the hearing aids out. “Alright, that’s it. I don’t know what this stupid thing is, but I might as-”

“Don’t,” Harry bursted, frowning, stepping closer to him carefully, too panicked to even try and understand what he was saying. “Draco, don’t. Please.”

“Should’ve thought of that before you decided to get on my nerves,” he fumed, backing away from the lake, then throwing the hearing aids the furthest he could. Harry watched in awe as it sank into the water, frozen for a moment. Then he turned to Draco, a stone-cold expression on his face. He practically ripped off the robes that seemed to hold him back, grabbing Draco by the collar and pushing him against the nearby tree. 

“You _dickhead_ ,” he cried out in anger, slapping him in the face, tugging at his shirt. “What did I ever do to you? What did I ever…” he felt tears stinging in his eyes, chest aching. “What did I ever do to…”

“Malfoy, Potter!” Professor McGonagall practically shouted, running towards the two. Draco, who was pale and clutching his cheek, seemed to have guilt written all over his face. Harry turned to see the professor, cursing under his breath, letting go of him. “Both of you, my office. _Now_!”

The two sat down on the chairs, both refusing to look at each other.

“Alright, you two,” McGonagall said as she entered the room, sitting down at her desk. “I am absolutely appalled by your behavior,” she said while signing. 

Harry stared at her, eyebrows knitted. “You know WSL?”

“Of course. Anyway,” she fumed, continuing to sign, “what is the reason behind this? This is the third time this week I have heard of a commotion between you two. It has come to my attention that it has been because of you, Mr. Malfoy.”

Draco gulped. He knew he had taken it too far. The fleeting satisfaction had left and the regret was starting to settle. He shook his head. “I didn’t mean-”

“However, you did anyway,” she snapped, folding her arms. “Detention. Three weeks. And fifty points from Slytherin.”

“Three?” he echoed, outraged. 

“Mr. Potter, I would have been willing to overlook this due to your… unfortunate circumstances,” she said, “but you resorted to violence, and you already had detention from Professor Umbridge last week. Both of you will have three weeks of detention with me.”

Harry looked over at Draco in disgust. “I hope you’re happy with yourself.”

“Cut it out!” McGonagall snapped her fingers. “You two will _not_ interact in the hallways or classes unless absolutely necessary. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Professor,” the two grumbled.

“Good. Now get to your classes,” she ordered. Draco stood up at once, quickly leaving. Harry lingered for a moment, and she sighed, placing the hearing aids on the table. “I managed to get it from the lake, but I’m uncertain how well they would work… are they Muggle hearing aids?”

“Yes,” he signed, picking it up, lower lip quivering as he tried putting it in his ear, sighing when he heard nothing. He took it out and pocketed it, looking back up at her. “Sorry, Professor.”

She looked at him almost empathetically, then dismissed him from her office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many kudos already?? Thank you so much!!
> 
> P.S. the plot is kicking in woohoooo


	3. Chapter 3

“Bloody Hell, Harry,” Ron said. “I’ll kill him!” 

“Not before me,” Hermione replied, her nostrils flaring, feeling the anger boil her blood, clenching her fists tightly before signing, even though the person she was signing for was barely paying attention. “He’s such a… a… dickwad!” 

Harry kept his head low, fiddling with the hearing aids in his hands, shaking his head. He wasn’t sure if he was angry or upset, and that’s what made him feel even worse. “I didn’t even get to try them on…”

The three looked up, watching several of their classmates eye them suspiciously. Harry stood up and quickly left for his dorm, unable to take it anymore. Hermione and Ron quickly followed after.

He kicked his school trunk, setting the hearing aids down on his bedside table, feeling hot tears run down his face. “Fuck!” he screamed, shutting his eyes. He couldn’t even hear himself speak. He was pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. “This is all Malfoy’s fault. I…” 

“Calm down,” Hermione signed, taking his hand gently and directing him to his bed, both of them sitting down. “Just breathe, okay?” Ron sat down on the floor in front of them, nodding reassuringly. “I know this is hard, but it will get better. And we’ll make sure that no one bothers you about this. Especially that dickwad.”

Harry sniffled, then nodded. “I hate him,” he signed. She quickly muttered a ‘me too’, then pulled him in for a hug, rubbing her hand up and down his back.

Pansy entered the Slytherin Common Room, shaking her head in disappointment when she saw Draco sitting there, sitting amongst his friends. As she approached, she realized that everyone was praising him, but he seemed anything but proud.

“That was hilarious, Draco,” Blaise laughed. “You should mess with Potter more often.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t,” he responded, folding his arms. “I suspect McGonagall will have me expelled for even looking at him now.”

“Well, it was worth it. Right?” Crabbe asked. Draco looked around at everyone, who were all waiting for an answer, then shrugged.

“Oh, it’s just about time for supper. We should get going,” Pansy said, checking her watch. Everyone stood up, continuing their conversation as they left, laughing and talking. “Not you,” she snapped, grabbing Draco by the back of his shirt.

“What?” he asked, sitting down beside her on the couch. 

“Well? I was right, wasn’t I? That was  _ not  _ a good idea,” she fumed. “You’ve earned yourself three weeks in detention. Honestly, can’t you just be a normal person? Why’d you have to go and bully Harry?”

“I wasn’t  _ bullying _ him,” he deflected, but scoffed. “Alright, I may have gone a bit too far with it. I suppose I was adamant on proving that he’s lying. I don’t like him at all, and I don’t think he deserves all the attention he gets, but…”

“But…?”

“...I don’t think he’s lying,” Draco stated quietly, almost as if he was afraid to say it. “I saw the look on his face. That’s when I knew I had taken it too far, and I realized that he wasn’t lying.”

Pansy didn’t respond. Instead, she smiled at him, as if she was proud of him.

“What do I do now?” he asked, his leg shaking.

“Well, for starters,” she jumped up, running a hand through her hair, “we eat dinner. Then, you let yourself stop obsessing over him, and maybe think about apologizing, if that’s something you want to do.”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Apologize? Why would I do that?”

“Oh, right, you’ve probably never had to do that before. It’s called human decency, but it seems I’d need to educate you on that,” she said, laughing when Draco smacked her on the shoulder. “It’s okay, you’ll make up with your boyfriend in no time.”

“Pansy, I’m this close to pushing you off the Astronomy Tower,” he grumbled, too tired to argue with her.

***

“Alright, Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy,” McGonagall said as they entered the classroom, sitting as far from each other as possible. “For today’s detention, I need you to sort out these papers. They are test papers and homework. I will need you to organize each to one folder for one student.”

“You’re kidding,” Harry spoke suddenly. Judging by the looks on Draco and McGonagall’s faces, he had accidentally spoken too loudly again. “Um… I mean, never mind.”

“ _ Anyway _ … I have a meeting to get to. Do not make me regret leaving you two in a room alone together,” she said sternly, signing carefully so Harry could understand. “This will probably take some time, so don’t expect to finish it by today.”

“But Professor, couldn’t we use magic to get this done quicker?” Draco asked, frowning. 

“No. You are not to use magic for this. This is your punishment and I expect you to abide by the rules.”

Harry and Draco got to work. It was their fifth day of detention, and they had gotten quite used to ignoring each other’s existence. After all, Harry had sworn to himself he wouldn’t speak to him ever again. McGonagall had set them to similar tasks as the one they were doing currently, which meant they didn’t have to talk too often.

The first thirty minutes went by in silence. Draco snapped his fingers in front of Harry, who sighed irritatedly, giving him a confused look.

“Have you made a folder for Godfrey yet?” he asked. The brown haired boy stared in confusion. “Godfrey?” he repeated to no avail. “Uh…” he signed the letters that spelt the name rather messily, and Harry nodded, handing him the folder. 

“Why are you still learning sign language, Malfoy? Got another trick up your sleeve?” Harry asked, setting a folder to the side as he grabbed a few papers from the pile, sorting them out. “What are you gonna do next, break my glasses? News flash, you don’t need sign language to do that.” 

Draco inhaled sharply. “I deserve that,” he nodded.

“Oh, do you?” he folded his arms, smiling sarcastically.

He shook his head, gritting his teeth. “You know what? Can we just… not talk unless it’s to do with the work?”

“Works perfectly for me.”

Draco kept stealing glances at him. He’d expected Harry to chew him out, or blabber on about how annoying he was, but all he got was silence. The only sound in the room was the rustling of the papers, and he imagined what it was like for him, not being able to hear anything at all… not even his own voice.

McGonagall returned a few hours later, surprised. “Oh, you went further than I expected. You two may go to bed,” she said, nodding at the two of them. She seemed actually quite impressed with them.

“Potter,” Draco whispered as they made their way down the dimly lit hallway. He leaned forward and tapped him on the shoulder lightly. Harry turned to him, seeming like he was about to snap his neck in half. “Um… I just… never mind,” he said, then quickly ran off. Harry watched him go, confused.

“How was detention?” Pansy asked as he entered her dorm. The Slytherins were having a party in the common room, but neither she nor Draco were in the mood to party. “Are you and Harry okay yet?”

He face palmed as he flopped down on Pansy’s bed dramatically. “I just can’t bring myself to apologize,” he said, pouting as he watched Pansy brush her hair, getting ready for bed. “I feel really bad, but… I don’t know… it feels weird.”

“Probably because it’s a new concept to you,” she rolled her eyes, applying chapstick to her lips. “Just try to say it earnestly, and make sure he knows you really mean it. That’s all I can say to you.”

Earnestly. He could do that, right? Since he really did mean it.

“Harry,” Draco whispered. McGonagall had just left the room, so this was his chance. It was the next day. They had a morning detention since it was Saturday. 

They were seated on the floor since it was more convenient for them. He leaned forward and lightly tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention. “Um… I have something I need to say to you."

Adjusting his glasses, Harry leaned forward slightly, keeping his eyes on the other’s lips. “You have something you want to say?” he asked.

“Yes, um…” Draco put his hands forward. “I’m… sorry…” he said while signing.

Harry shook his head. “It’s actually on your chest.”

He looked down. “What’s on my chest?” 

“No,” he snorted. “You sign ‘sorry’ on your chest. Here, make a fist,” he scooted closer to Draco, taking his hand and making a fist, then putting it to his chest, who was taken aback. “Now move it in a circle.”

“Uh…” he paused for a second. Harry’s touch was soft - almost caring. He quickly shook off the feeling, signing it the way he had asked. “Like this?”

“Yes,” he nodded, seeming somewhat impressed, before clearing his throat, blinking. “I only helped because you’re so bad at WSL that I feel bad. Either way, I think we both know you don't mean it, so don’t use the sign.”

“But-”

“I trust that you are working, Mr. Malfoy?” McGonagall said as she entered the room. Draco jumped, scrambling back to his pile of papers while Harry simply turned back to his work, his face expressionless.

That night, he lied awake, unsure of how to feel. Obviously Draco didn’t mean it, right? How could he? He turned to the hearing aids on his bedside table, wondering if he would ever be able to hear ever again. Maybe he would be able to find a cure, but that would only be able to work if he knew what exactly happened. He had been too fixated on Cedric to realize he couldn’t hear anything until way after they got back to Hogwarts.

“Potter,” Draco said in a hushed tone. “Psst!” he waved his hand in front of Harry, who kept his eyes down on his paper, refusing to look up. Rolling his eyes, he stuck his leg out and kicked his foot lightly. 

Harry yelped, looking up. “What do you want?” he asked while kicking his foot back.

“Ow,” he said dramatically, then shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

He sighed, then turning back to his paper, only to be tapped on the shoulder again. “For the last time, Malfoy, I don’t need your apology.”

“But… I’m sorry,” he repeated. “Why don’t you just forgive me? This is weird. I thought apologies went ‘sorry’, ‘oh okay, I forgive you’.”   


“The point of an apology is that  _ you  _ are sorry. Whether I forgive you or not is up to me. You seriously don’t know anything, do you?” Harry snapped, setting down his quill. Their detention for Monday was just to finish off any homework. This meant they probably would have a huge workload given the next day, so he was sort of dreading it. “Besides, I thought I told you not to apologize if you don’t mean it.” 

“But I do mean it,” Draco urged, then looked away for a second, frowning. “Okay, what could I do to show you I mean it?”

Harry blinked in confusion. “Why do you need me to forgive you so badly?”

“Potter, I’m giving you the chance to do anything at all.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t believe you.” 

“Merlin!” He cried out, throwing his hands up in frustration. “Can’t you think of anything? At all?”

“Um-” 

“Come on, something-”

“Okay, fine, write me a poem!” he blurted, then frowned, contemplating what he just said. “Wait, no-”

“Pfft, a poem?” Draco folded his arms, snorting. “Easy, but if that means you forgive me-”

“Oh, really? Then write a poem for me every single day,” Harry challenged, narrowing his eyes. “Bet you aren’t  _ that  _ sorry.” 

“Bet I am,” he retorted. Professor McGonagall, who had been listening to this exchange just outside the classroom, found herself smiling as she entered. The two looked at her, wide-eyed, then quickly looking back down, picking up their quills.

***

Harry yawned, sulking as he stuffed his face with a sausage. “I am so tired,” he said. It was Tuesday morning and he was regretting procrastinating the essay Snape had set. “I only managed to finish the essay by one in the morning.”

“I did that as soon as it was set,” Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron, who was trying to hastily write the conclusion of his essay. “God, can’t you two be a little more organized? Haven’t I taught you anything?” She was signing so fast even Harry took a moment to understand what she was saying.

He turned back to his food, he winced when an owl pecked his hand to get his attention. “What?” he asked, seeing the letter attached to it. Hermione and Ron both looked at him strangely. He took it from the owl, who then quickly flew away.

“Who’s that letter from?” Hermione asked, trying to peek. Harry quickly turned away from her, opening the letter.

_ Since this is how I’m supposed to make it up to you, _

_ I guess I have to write a poem or two _

_ You can go ahead and deny _

_ But my poetic skills are definitely high _

_ I apologize for what I did _

_ Just forgive me and stop acting like a kid! _

_ How was that? Good enough? I like the rhyming. _

_ D.M.  _

He stared down at the poem. He didn’t imagine Draco would actually send such a thing, let alone write it. He felt himself smile, then quickly stopped, folding the paper and pocketing it. 

“What’s that all about?” Ron whispered to Hermione, who simply shrugged.

Harry finished off his breakfast, thinking to himself - he wasn’t about to let a stupid poem affect how he felt about Malfoy’s empty apology, was he?

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

“Another letter,” Hermione said, trying to take it from the owl, who quickly flew away from her and onto Harry’s shoulder. “Who keeps sending you these anyway?” she said, folding her arms.

“Just some secret admirers,” Harry said smoothly, taking the paper from the owl and smiling as he quickly left the Great Hall. He had taken a liking to Draco’s owl, who seemed to be much nicer than his owner.

“More like one secret admirer,” Ron commented, finishing up his breakfast and trying to take the letter from his hands. “That’s the same owl from the past few days, isn’t it? Can I read the paper?”

“You better not,” he quickly pocketed the paper after scanning through it. “I’m not too interested myself, so…”

“But someone likes you,” Ron raised an eyebrow. “If I were you I’d have gone mental trying to figure out who it is.”

“Like anyone would send you a letter, Ron,” Hermione laughed, high fiving Harry who also chuckled. “But you know, if this person is bothering you, we can get to the bottom of it.”

“I’m fine, but thank you,” he signed, too busy eating to speak this time.

They eventually made it to their first class of the day, which was Potions. Harry and Ron sat beside each other while Hermione sat beside someone else. She always said those two were too distracting to be around during Potions, so it wasn’t a surprise.

The class started and Harry watched Draco enter, ignoring his presence. It had been a few days, but Draco did not attempt to start any conversations with Harry during detention, nor did they acknowledge each other in the hallways.

He opened the letter, rolling his eyes at the corny poem as Snape started the lesson. Harry was having a hard time paying attention. It was hard to keep up with him while taking notes at the same time. Despite the notes being on the board, Snape did like to add detail while speaking and Harry was no where near perfect at lip reading yet, not that Snape was trying his best to make sure he understood.

Draco carefully finished off his poem, waiting for the ink to dry before folding it up. “Send this to Potter,” he whispered to Pansy, who handed it to the girl beside her. Eventually, it made its way around the class and to Ron, who tapped Harry on the shoulder, handing it to him under the table.

Harry stared down at the paper. A second poem? 

_Okay, perhaps I may have set the bar too high_

_Writing poems everyday is making me want to die_

_I’m running out of poem topics too_

_What do you want me to write about, a shoe?_

_I might as well write more poems, maybe two or three,_

_To make you understand how sorry I feel._

_We haven’t had the best past,_

_But I don’t want this hatred to last_

_It’s gone on for long enough,_

_Maybe we should just make up_

_Rhyming is so hard_

_Please just forgive me you jackass_

_Okay that wasn’t too kind was it?_

_My rhyming has stopped, hope you won’t mind a bit_

_D.M._

Harry found himself snorting as he read the letter. He looked up to see Draco was already looking at him, seeming satisfied with himself. He was confused, but Draco knew exactly why he was satisfied. He had managed to make Harry smile for the first time. 

“Something funny with my teaching, Mr. Potter?” Snape asked, coming into Harry’s view. “You’re already behind due to your… disability. I wouldn’t want you to be further set back by Mr. Weasley here.”

Harry looked at Hermione, who quickly signed everything Snape had said. “Um… no, Sir, I’m not distracted.”

“Right…” he nodded, turning back to the board. 

He turned back to Draco, who was still staring at him, almost nervously now. Harry quickly scribbled down a note that said ‘meet me at the seventh floor during lunch’, watching as it made its way around the classroom. 

Draco stared at the note, finding himself smiling, putting it away before Pansy could question what it said.

***

“Why here?” Draco asked as he watched Harry pace around one section of the wall a few times. He took a small step back as he saw a door emerge on the wall, confused. “Um… what’s this now?”

“Just enter,” Harry said. He looked around before quickly opening the door and entering. Draco hesitantly followed, looking around to see a somewhat empty room. “This is the Room of Requirement.”

“The room of the what now?” he asked, walking over to the shelves.

“You can use this room for whatever you need. It can change depending on who’s asking for it. I said I needed a place to talk to you privately, so this room came. Not sure what the books are for,” Harry explained, sitting down on the chair.

“I’d say this sounds crazy, but we’re at Hogwarts, so…” Draco commented, sitting down. “Anyway--”

“Right,” he sat up. “Your poems are horrible.”

“Excuse you, I think they’re quite fantastic,” he snapped, folding his arms. “But… does this mean you forgive me?”

“I don’t know why you’re so adamant about it…” He rolled his eyes and shrugged. “I don’t know. You seem apologetic, but seriously, why do you care if I forgive you or not? You didn’t seem to care when you threw my hearing aids into the lake.”

“I know. I took it too far, and I know that. Honestly, I don’t know why this is bothering me so much. I guess it’s because, uh… a family member of mine is going deaf.”

“Really? Who?” Harry asked, suddenly intrigued.

“Just some old relative that I need to learn WSL for. And… I was thinking-”

He stood up, scoffing. “Of course you need something. Why was I stupid enough to think that you actually were sorry for once? Who am I kidding? You’re a Malfoy. All you’re made of is cowardice and cruelty.”

“I know the last five years have been terrible. I never intended for us to-”

“Be enemies? We only ended up this way because of you. If you’re done with your sob story, I’m leaving.”

“Trust me, Potter, I really wouldn’t come to you for anything if I had a choice,” he rolled his eyes. “Don’t think you’re some bigshot or something.”

“Trust me, I’m not,” He rolled his eyes and picked up his bag, heading for the door. 

“Wait, please,” Draco said, realizing he would have to put aside his ego to get any help from Harry. Standing up, he quickly grabbed the others hand, stopping him from walking away. He turned around, staring down at their hands, confused. “Just… hear me out, please?”

“Can’t do much hearing, but go ahead,” Harry said, pushing his hand off and folding his arms. “You have thirty seconds.”

“Can’t believe I’m doing this,” Draco muttered. Harry’s lips twitched in amusement but he tried to hide it. “I just need your help for a few months. My relative… he’s deaf, so my father wants me to learn WSL so I can communicate with him.”

“There are books in the library for it,” Harry said after a moment, mainly because he was still trying to process what Draco was saying. “Seriously, you don’t need me for this.”

“I’ve been trying to use this book, but it’s not really helping. I mean, you saw me trying to sign ‘sorry’. I can’t do it,” he sighed. “I understand if you don’t want to help me. After everything you and me have been through, I think it’s actually expected. But… please think about it?”

Harry was about to say no - he didn’t need to associate himself with Draco on top of everything that was going on. But he had a moment of weakness staring into his eyes. Draco, for once, seemed vulnerable - helpless, even. Harry knew exactly how that felt. He turned, making his way to the door, but at the last second, he turned, shaking his head in disbelief, almost as if he didn’t believe what he was about to say.

“I’m free on Friday evenings,” he stated. 

“Really?” he asked, eyes widening.

“...Don’t make me regret it,” He said. “I still don’t forgive you, by the way. But I’m not vile enough to not help you out for something like this.”

Draco watched him leave, unable to shake off the sudden positive feeling that had overcome him.

***

“Another letter…” Hermione stared at the owl that flew on Harry’s shoulder this time, parchment paper attached to it. “Er… Harry, do you have a girlfriend?”

“What?” he asked. “It’s funny that you think anyone would want to date me, especially now.”

She looked at him, too tired to argue. Ever since the summer, he had become more self-deprecating then usual, which was inevitable, but it hurt her to see him like this, knowing there was nothing she could do to help.

_Good morning, Potter_

_Hope you’re fresh as an otter_

_Wait, are otters generally fresh?_

_Eh, couldn’t care less_

_Here’s your poem for the day_

_It’s short, but I’m sure you don’t want an essay_

_D.M._

_PS you can’t blame me for the otter thing. There’s practically nothing that rhymes with Potter!_

Harry rolled his eyes. What was he getting himself into? Strangely enough, though, seeing a stupid rhyme in Draco's poems every morning always made the day a little more bearable. By now, he had a small box under his bed with all of the poems from Draco. It felt too meaningful to throw away after reading.

“Why is this so hard for you?” Harry grumbled, leaning back in his seat. “Put your hands out.”

“You’re the one who’s making it difficult!” Draco said outrageously, but begrudgingly put his hands out. “Okay.” He started signing the sentence but stopped halfway, forgetting how to sign one of the words, letting out a groan.

“This is the easiest sentence. And the most important,” he rolled his eyes. Draco watched as he signed while speaking, amazed. He had only. “‘My name is Draco’. You need to finger spell your name. Look at me again.”

He watched as Harry signed his name carefully. “Okay, I think I have it now.”

Draco signed slowly, hands trembling slightly, and he noticed that Harry smiled for probably the first time that day. “I can’t tell if I’m a horrible teacher or you’re a terrible learner.”

“We can go with the first one,” Draco replied, smirking to himself.

“Seeing as that took you twenty minutes…” Harry said, ignoring Draco’s sly insult, he took out a book from his bag. “This helped me learn the basics. Just flick through it whenever you have time. For now just go through the first chapter.”

In the coming weeks, the first few lessons went this way. They’d do a few minutes of physical signing, then Harry would give him a new phrase to learn, or a new topic of words to learn. They would usually sit in silence then, until Harry decided he needed to leave. Draco would stay for an hour or more, trying to study WSL on his own.

The first Friday of November was a little different.

The white-haired boy studied Harry’s demeanor as he sat at the desk, getting out his homework and textbooks to work. His every move seemed so fragile, almost as if he was afraid. He also stared down at his work and rarely looked up during classes, nor did he engage in conversations with anyone other than Hermione or Ron. Hand slightly trembling, he stared down at the paper in front of him, then back up at Harry.

Harry’s green eyes met Draco’s silver ones, raising an eyebrow. “Why are you staring at me?”

Caught off guard, he quickly cleared his throat, looking down at his book, shaking his head. “No, nothing. You just… um… seem different.”

There was a moment of silence. “Compared to…?”

“Last year,” Draco replied, looking up again as he continued to write furiously.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, scratching the back of his neck, “losing a friend can do that to you.”

His eyes widened slightly. “Friends? I didn’t think you two were that close,” he commented. Harry watched him as he continued to write, mildly disgusted.

“Do you know anything about me at all, Malfoy?”

“Fair point,” he nodded, ripping out the page from his notebook, pocketing it. “I can’t study anymore. I’ll see you next friday. Thanks.”

Harry watched him go in disbelief. _Thanks_? Were his lip-reading skills just really bad or did Draco actually thank him?

Despite the usual hostility Draco was used to, he found that they had perhaps made a little progress. He wasn’t sure what exactly it was they were working towards, but he realized he was curious to find out.

***

Draco made his way to the owlery as per his new daily morning routine, clutching two pieces of paper in his hand. One was a silly poem, the other one was… something he shouldn’t have even considered sending to Harry. It was stupid, yet perfectly described Draco’s thoughts throughout this whole mishap. Only he knew how horrible the burning feeling in his chest felt, yet no one seemed to believe how sorry he actually was.

Folding up the silly poem, he reached for his owl, who grabbed it and quickly flew away. Draco sighed, taking out the other one from his pocket, opening it, his heart dropping to his stomach. “No. _No_!”

Harry took the letter from the owl, petting him before returning to his meal, unfolding the paper with his free hand. Hermione and Ron’s interest in the letters had now been lost as they were always bickering with each other. Besides, they could tell Harry didn’t like it when they asked him about it.

_Heart made of anything but gold,_

_he was rather bold._

_All eyes on you,_

_but you were looking at him,_

_tears in your eyes,_

_you couldn’t understand it’s himself he despised_

_His soul hymns all day long,_

_but you don’t listen,_

_your eyes glisten_

_in the morning sun,_

_All he worries for is his foe,_

_yet the wrongdoings can’t be undone_

_How his chest aches, only he’ll know_

Gulping, he reread the poem a few times, trying to understand what he had just read. Since when did Draco add hidden meanings to his poems? Hell, since when did Draco become so good at writing one?

“What… are you doing, Draco?” Pansy asked as she reached him, watching him pace back and forth near the entrance of the Great Hall. “I’ve been watching you pace from all the way over there,” she pointed behind her, which was a long hallway.

“I fucked up, I fucked up,” he said, pacing a few more times before stopping in front of her. “I feel sick. I’m going Madame Pomfrey. I’ll probably be off for the rest of the week.”

“Draco, it’s Monday,” she raised an eyebrow. Just as she was about to ask what had happened, he quickly left, practically running down the hallway. Too hungry by now, she entered the Great Hall, deciding she had more pressing matters to get to.

He stayed in the hospital wing for a few days, insisting that he was getting a bad stomach ache. Madame Pomfrey was too tired of his whining to do anything about it, telling her he needed to stay in the hospital wing.

On Wednesday evening, Harry found himself making his way to the wing, rather uneasy. He hadn’t gotten a poem from Draco the past two days, which made him think that maybe Draco was really sick. 

“You’re unwell?” Harry asked as he reached his bed. 

Draco, who was sitting in bed, WSL book in his hands, was taken aback when he saw him standing by his bed, frowning. “Potter,” he said. “What are you doing here? Got yourself injured again or something?”

“No, I… I was wondering how you were doing,” he looked down as he spoke, playing with the sleeves of his jumper. “I didn’t get a poem from you today and yesterday, so…”

“Oh,” Draco cleared his throat awkwardly. “I… didn’t think you would care. I’ve just been sick. Besides, haven’t I written you enough poems already?”

“Yeah, but nothing quite like the one on Monday,” Harry said, reaching into his pocket and taking it out. Draco felt his heart race, heat flushing his cheeks. “That one was…”

“Oh, that… that was stupid. And weirdly emotional. I wrote it at like two a.m. so don’t even think about it-”

“Actually, I thought it was quite sweet.”

“You- what?” He stared up at Harry, eyes widening. His face was burning, and it actually felt as if he was coming down with a fever. Harry avoided his eyes, putting the piece of paper back into his pocket.

“It was sweet. You know, it almost felt like you were actually sorry for once.”

“Almost?”

He let out a loose laugh, walking closer to Draco, who gulped. “I’m kidding. Thank you for the poem.”

The two stared at each other, unsure of what to say now. This was a new, strange territory. They seemed to be civil with each other, but it wasn’t as if they could say they were friends. No, they were a long way from friends. More like… acquaintances. 

Harry stood up, clearing his throat. “Right, so, I’ll see you on Friday?”

“...Friday, yeah.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk how to feel about this chapter but I'm posting it before I overthink it too much
> 
> hope you enjoyed!! stay safe! enjoy your day! take it easy. you are loved <3
> 
> love,  
> malfoypolix


	5. Chapter 5

“Hey, Potter,” Draco snorted, holding up the WSL book. “I found a nice sign.” he set the book down and clumsily signed the word for ‘dork’. “I’ll be using this a lot for you.”

“Very funny,” Harry said sarcastically. “Well, I just hope you don’t use it on your relative.”

“I probably will, you know. When I’m telling him about how dorky you are.”

“I’m surprised you’d even want to talk about me to your relatives,” Harry raised an eyebrow, leaning forward, a small smirk on his face. “Am I that important in your life, hmm?”

“You literally show up in the Daily Prophet every week. You’re not a topic of conversation because of me,” he said quickly, rolling his eyes. 

“You should see how panicked you get sometimes,” he laughed. “You don’t need to worry so much. I really don’t think we’re friends or something.”

“We’re like… acquaintances, but not quite, you know?” Draco answered absentmindedly. Harry looked at him a bit strangely and he gulped. “I just mean… I wouldn’t treat you like an enemy anymore. It’d be like going back to square one. And while I don’t think you’d ever want to be friends with me, I’d like to think that we’re on neutral terms now.”

“You really are sorry, then?” Harry asked, staring down at the books in front of him. “Not using me just for your own benefit?”

Without thinking, Draco reached across the table, using his hand to gently lift up Harry’s chin, grinning as if he felt like the smartest person on Earth. “Can’t it be a little bit of both, Potter?”

“Fuck off,” he rolled his eyes, but he was smiling, letting Draco’s hand rest on his face for a moment before the two awkwardly turned back to their work, realizing what had just happened.

That evening, Harry and Draco hurried to dinner after sneaking out of the room of requirement. Hermione eyed her best friend suspiciously as he sat down beside her, humming out of tune as he served himself.

“Have you… got a song stuck in your head?” she asked.

“What? Oh, yeah,” he replied. “It’s strange, isn’t it? It’s not like I heard it recently, but… somehow still got stuck in my head.”

“You’re strange,” she commented. “But you seem… happier. Did something happen? Did Malfoy get into trouble or something?”

“Hermione, why would that be the only reason I’d be happier?”

“It’s the first thing I could think of that would help you achieve some temporary happiness.”

“Temporary happiness?” he echoed, stuffing his face with food.

“You know,” she shrugged, “you’ve not been happy the past few months. But sometimes you get these waves of temporary happiness. And it feels like everything’s going to be okay again.”

He stared at her, frowning. “Have I become a huge burden on you?” he asked, looking over to Ron, who was sitting across from them.

“What are you talking about, mate?” Ron said through a mouthful. “Why would you be a burden?”

“Ron could you chew _then_ talk?” Ginny, beside him, snapped. She turned to Harry sweetly. “You’re not a burden, Harry.”

“Uh… thanks,” he nodded, but turned to Hermione, clearly seeming as if he didn’t believe her.

“She’s right. You’re not. We’re just worried about you,” she answered. 

“Seems like all you are is worried about me,” he muttered. “Seriously, I’m alright.”

“I wish I could believe that,” she sighed as he looked down at his food.

***

Harry sat in Charms class, staring at the board, rather confused. They were learning a new spell, but he was unable to understand how to pronounce it. He looked over to Ron and Hermione beside who were casting the spell perfectly, too embarrassed to ask them anything yet again.

Looking up, he caught Draco’s eye, who mockingly waved his wand around, as if to remind Harry how to use his wand. In response, Harry rolled his eyes, but kept his gaze on Draco, unsure of what to do.

“Something wrong?” Draco mouthed, frowning.

Harry shook his head. He opened his mouth to speak. “ _Colovoria_ ,” he said rather loudly, mispronouncing the spell, in return, failing the spell he was trying to do on the rat in front of him. Flitwick had given out animals to practice the pell on. 

Harry looked up to see some of the Slytherins snickering, but much to his surprise, Draco wasn’t one of them, pretending to be focused on his own spell. 

As Harry, Ron and Hermione, made their way to their next class, she seemed rather upset. “You know, you could’ve asked us how to pronounce the spell,” she said as they walked. 

“Is that really how I’m supposed to spend the rest of my fucking life?” Harry snapped, stopping. “Asking my friends how to pronounce spells?”

Hermione hesitantly slowed down, turning around to look at him, her gaze moving to someone behind him. Harry turned, following her eyes to Blaise, who he guessed had been trying to get his attention.

“How does it feel, Potter?” Blaise was laughing amongst Crabbe and Goyle, who were standing on either side of him. Was this it? Now that Draco wasn’t at his throat, it was Blaise. “You can’t even do a simple color-changing spell now!” 

Draco was nearby, but kept his eyes at his feet, knowing well that there was nothing he could do to stop Blaise without raising suspicion. Pansy caught up to him. “Why are you standing-”

“I’m sure a color-changing spell would help you a lot later,” Harry responded. “But thanks for the insight.”

“Sure, this is a color-changing spell, you won’t need it,” Blaise shrugged. “But it’d be rather embarrassing to fight the Dark Lord - since he’s supposedly back - when you can’t even pronounce your spells properly. Maybe you ought to just take your defe-”

“Shut up,” Ron spoke up. “Do you really have nothing better to do than obsess over Harry? It almost seems like a personality trait now.”

“Obsess?” he spat. “No. I’m just trying to tell Potter like it is.”

“And I’m trying really hard not to punch you in the face right now,” Harry replied. Both Ron and Hermione tugged at him. Gulping, he looked over to Draco, who seemed to be apologetically staring at him.

What was frustrating wasn’t Blaise’s stupid remarks, it was that he was right. How was Harry going to defend himself through everything? He still had three years of education left. He was nowhere near ready to fight Voldemort.

Throughout the rest of the week, Harry’s speech was minimalized. He barely spoke out loud, and during their next Charms class, he didn’t even attempt to take his wand out when they were trying to learn a new spell. Blaise sat back in triumph, while Draco beside him wanted to slap the smirk off of his face. 

“Look, Potter won’t even attempt the spell today,” Blaise nudged Draco, who looked at him in disgust.

“You’re a dickhead, you know,” he said before he could stop himself, earning a questioning glance from Pansy.

“Hey, at least I didn’t throw some Muggle device that could help him hear into the lake.”

Draco bit back an insult. Blaise was right. He didn’t have a right to say anything. Over the course of the past five years, he had done much worse to Harry. Yet, wasn’t the difference that he actually felt guilty, rather than Blaise, who seemed proud, as if he had done something great?

***

“You can’t just not attempt any new spells,” Hermione stated. “That’s ridiculous!”

“You know what’s ridiculous? Me coming back for another year,” Harry signed with one hand as he tried to eat. “There can’t have been zero deaf wizards until now, right?”

“Tell me about it,” Ron replied as he sat down beside Harry, grabbing a piece of chicken for himself. “It’s kind of stupid how they expect you to stay on top of work if they can’t do much to accommodate to your needs."

Both Hermione and Harry stared at him for a few moments.

“What?” he asked, and the two shook their heads.

“Nothing, you’re just… completely right,” she responded.

“Gee, thanks,” Ron scoffed, and the three let out a small chuckle. Harry turned around to look for Draco. It was Friday evening, which meant it was almost time for them to meet in the Room of Requirement to study, but he seemed to be nowhere in sight. Maybe he had finished up already. 

After dinner, Harry went to his dorm and changed out of his uniform, then grabbed his things and left for the Room of Requirement. They had spent the last lesson on Friday quietly. Surprisingly, Draco had recognized Harry needed his space, and rather than a lesson, they had more of a study session. Except the kind where they kept stealing glances at each other while trying to study. 

When he entered now, he noticed Draco was at the table, hunched over rather tensely.

Walking over, Harry tapped him on the shoulder, then signed, ‘what are you doing?’. Draco stared at him for a few moments, hiding whatever was in his hands under the table. Harry stared at him expectantly.

“I tried fixing your hearing aids,” he sighed, bringing them up on the table. “I still feel horrible about what happened. I tried every spell I could, but…”

“How did you even get it?” Harry asked out loud, realizing he was way too bad at sign language to be able to understand him. “These were in my dorm.”

“Um… I asked Pansy who asked one of her friends… it’s kind of a long chain, but I got them,” he explained. “Could you try them on?” 

“Malfoy, you didn’t have to,” he said, staring down at the hearing aids. He carefully put them on, adjusting it, staying still for a moment. He shook his head in disappointment. “I expected it not to work. Whatever happened to me was some sort of dark magic. It was a longshot anyway.”

“Still,” he urged. “I’m sorry.”

“I thought we were over this,” Harry was smiling, but still rather confused. “I know you’re sorry.”

“I just… don’t think you should stop trying new spells,” Draco frowned as he watched him sit down across from him. “Seriously, Blaise is an idiot. Even while deaf you can probably do every spell better than him.”

“Why do you care so much?” he asked. 

Draco rolled his eyes. “Do I need to spell everything out for you, Potter?” 

“If you keep acting like this, yes. I’m afraid I need an explanation as to why you’re acting so abnormally kind.”

He put up his middle finger, to which Harry laughed. “Seeing as you’re not lying about being deaf, I don’t think you’re lying about… You-Know-Who either. So don’t you think you should be learning your spells?”

Harry glanced at his ex-arch nemesis. “I have a few things to say,” he announced. “One, isn’t your dad a Deatheater? Doesn’t that make you automatically on Voldemort’s side?”

Eyebrows creased, he gulped. “No,” he answered. “I mean… they’ve been trying to convince me, but… I’m not really…”

“You don’t need to answer,” he said. “You’re not really obligated to admit anything, especially to me.”

“Thanks,” Draco kept his eyes on Harry, who was fiddling with the hearing aids in his hands. 

“Blaise is right, you know,” he spoke finally. “I don’t know how I expected to get by this year. I’m already falling behind in Potions. I feel like Snape is purposely going faster than usual this year, just to see me suffer.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” The blond broke out. “You know I can help you, right?”

“You know why that idea would sound insanely absurd to me, right?” Harry retorted, then shook his head. “I’m sorry. This is weird. I don’t know how I’m supposed to behave around you. It feels like the walls are closing in on me every time you look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you actually care,” he set down his hearing aids, keeping his eyes on Draco’s lips.

“Would it be totally weird for me to say that I do?”

Harry’s gaze moved up to look into Draco’s eyes, unsure of what to say. “Um…”

“Okay, that was probably the lamest thing I’ve ever said,” Draco, panicked, picked up the WSL book. “Let’s just get on with the lesson? If you’re planning to actually teach me something this week, that is.”

“I would, if you stop being a brat,” Harry grabbed the WSL book from his hands, flipping through the pages. “Alright, so I’m guessing you’d probably want to talk about Hogwarts to your relative. I’m still pretty rusty on signing the terms, but I think you ought to learn it. You might as well go all in rather than just learn random bits of the language. Who knows, maybe you’ll encounter more deaf wizards in the future.”

Draco was only half-listening, too busy paying attention to Harry’s hands as they stroked the page, gulping. This was weird. A bit too weird. It was mostly the weird feeling in his chest that was putting him off.

The rest of the lesson went by smoothly - or whatever was considered smoothly for Draco and Harry. 

“Hey, so,” Draco said as Harry was gathering his stuff, “Do you want me to help you with Potions or something tomorrow?”

He chewed his lip, then nodded. “Okay, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try. But you can’t be short with me. I’m going to be slow.”

“Can’t be as slow as me trying to learn sign language,” he shrugged, and the two shared a small smile. “Just have a list of things you need help with ready.”

Harry watched him leave, finding himself almost mesmerized by his every move. Draco moved so effortlessly. Even if he wasn’t, with his confidence, you’d think he’s the most handsome person in the room. Well, it was hard to be in a room where someone was more attractive than Draco. 

Harry blinked in surprise. What was that thought just went through his head?

Draco returned to the Slytherin Common Room, flopping down beside Pansy. “Exhausted.”

“I bet,” she replied. “Where _do_ you go on these dates every Friday, Draco? Is it to her dormitories? Do you guys-”

“Sorry, what?” he turned to look at her. 

“You have a girlfriend, don’t you?” Pansy asked, running a hand through her hair, seeming rather amused. “Where else have you been going the past few Fridays? Gone before I can even notice.”

“Er… I’ve been studying,” he said. That wasn’t far from the truth. “By myself.”

“Has anyone ever told you how rubbish you are at lying?”

“I don’t see how I spend my Friday evenings is any of your concern, Pansy,” he folded his arms, holding his head up high.

“It’s just refreshing to see you like this. Not fueled by hatred for Potter, for whatever it is. You know you haven’t ranted about him - or anyone from that friend group - for two weeks now? It’s a record, really.”

“Thank you for keeping track,” Draco replied. “Anyway…”

“Anyway… who’s your girlfriend?” When he didn’t reply, she raised an eyebrow, dropping her voice to a whisper. “...boyfriend?”

“I’m going,” he stood up, and Pansy burst into laughter, grabbing his hand, pulling him back down. He stared down at the WSL book in his hands, then looked back up at her. “Can you tell me something?”

Realizing he was being serious, she nodded, her smile fading. She looked over to the fireplace in front of them, soaking up the heat as she watched her best friend at a loss for words. This was a first. No matter whatever happened - being turned into a ferret, Cedric’s death, Harry Potter opening the chamber of secrets, whatever it was; there was never an instance Draco couldn’t put what he was feeling into words. Unless, of course, this was a new emotion he was feeling...

“Um… what would a feeling be described as when… you really care about someone’s well being?”

“Friendship? Kindness? Caring? Uh… a Hufflepuff?” Pansy listed, seeming quite pleased with her sense of humor. “Why?”

“It’s weird. I care a lot about this person, even though… I didn’t really expect to.”

“Draco, do you have a crush on this person?” she asked carefully. 

He scoffed in disbelief. “It was stupid coming to you. Crush? As if,” he stood up. “I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

She watched him go, but she couldn't help but think that she was right, based on his reaction.

The next morning, Harry woke up to a note on his bedside table.

_Sweet, loving bird, sing to me all the secrets you keep_

_Sing me to sleep,_

_Sing to me while I weep,_

_the touch of your hand so warm,_

_I long for you to feel okay again._

_One day, I hope she will be_

_almost as grateful for herself as me_

_Sing to me, sweet, loving bird_

_while I hold her tight, all my words left unheard_

_d.m._

Harry felt his vision blur, quickly wiping his eyes. This was stupid. Why was a poem from Draco Malfoy making him emotional? That aside, who was it even about? Who was ‘she’? He felt a tinge of anger. He didn’t want to get the discards of poems that were supposed to be for a girl he liked.

Harry didn’t quite know where he stood with Draco. If they stood anywhere at all, even. But as each day passed, each poem seemed to be deeper, more real. It was a raw version of Draco, and Harry liked being the only one to see his poetic side, as weird as it sounded.

The morning went by roughly. Harry kept his mind on the poem, and as beautiful it was, it bothered him. Who was the poem about?

Harry sat at the desk, unable to focus on his homework. He jumped when Draco tapped him on the shoulder. “You didn’t see me come in?” he asked, sitting down across from him. Harry shook his head, watching as he took out his textbook. “Alright, let’s get started.”

“You seem to be in a good mood,” he commented, adjusting his glasses as he got out his Charms textbook as well his wand. “Met with your girlfriend?”

“Why does everyone assume I have a girlfriend?” Draco asked, looking up at him. “I know I’m hot, but…”

“Better get your eyes checked out,” Harry said, but he was trying to fight back a smile. “I need help with a few potions, but I think I need to master these spells first.”

“Right, makes sense.” he got out his wand as well. “It was the color-changing spell, right? Okay, stand up.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “I really don’t think I need to stand up-”

“Potter, this sounds weird, but you need to center yourself, especially for someone who’s doubting their magical abilities.”

“What?” Harry stared. “You need to start signing even a little bit if you’re going to talk so fast.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Draco winced. “I always forget. I’m sorry.”

“It’s… okay,” he replied, surprised by how apologetic he was being. “Seriously, you’re making me feel bad for pointing it out.”

“Don’t. If we can’t even speak, we should probably give up on trying to help each other,” Draco said, then repeated what he was saying before, only slower and signing with whatever words he knew. “Got it? Okay, now just get ready as if you’re doing a spell you already know.”

Harry held out his wand. The two watched as it trembled in the clasp. He gulped, opening his mouth to speak, then set his wand down, turning around. “I can’t,” he shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

Draco watched him, frowning, then took a careful step forward, placing his hand on his shoulder. “Do you need to… um… talk about it?” he signed sloppily after walking into Harry’s line of vision. 

“What’s there for me to say?” he shrugged, sinking down on the chair. “I don’t want to do this anymore. I’m just… so sick of all of it.”

“It’s okay to take a break for yourself,” Draco said, sitting down on the seat beside him. “You’ve been through a lot the past couple of years; a lot more than anyone should in their lifetime.”

Even Draco seemed surprised by what he was saying. “I just mean… it’s not unreasonable for you to feel this way. And not unreasonable for you to need a break.”

Harry stood up. “This is stupid,” he sighed, looking away from Draco’s eyes, that by each day, were becoming easier and easier to fall into. “Maybe I should just ask Ron and Hermione for help instead.”

The blond felt a pain in his chest, but nodded. “...If you think that would be more effi-”

“You know, you ought to be sending those poems to your girlfriend instead. I guarantee they would be more than delighted to read a poem like that,” Harry blurted, looking over to the other, who seemed quite confused. 

“What are you on about, Potter?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

He took out the note from his pocket, holding it up somewhat accusingly. “The poem. It’s beautiful. You ought to give it to the girl who you wrote about. Rather than sending it to me. I don’t really like getting poems meant for someone else.”

Draco gulped. “I’m glad you like it,” he said, his expression somewhat panicked, unsure of what to do.

“Yeah, well just take it,” Harry folded his arms. “I don’t want it.”

“Harry,” he stood up so they were looking at each other eye-to-eye. “That poem… fucking hell... it's about my mother. I don’t have a girlfriend. I don’t even like a girl- I mean I don’t even have a crush.”

He blinked in surprise. “Your mother? But…” he stared down at the piece of paper, reading through it again. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, why would you send me a poem meant for your mother?” he asked.

“You’re going to think I’m pathetic,” Draco shook his head, looking away. 

“I always think you’re pathetic anyway. Isn’t that the whole point?” Harry asked, lightly patting him on the shoulder to ease the tension. He wondered why there needed to be tension at all. Draco was probably the one person he had talked to the most in the past three weeks.

“Well… it just feels like you’re the only person who listens to what I have to say, and…” Draco felt his eyes tear up. “Fuck, this is so stupid.”

“No, it’s not,” he said. “Go on.”

He played with his fingers, staring down at his feet. “It just feels like I’ve talked to you about things I couldn’t even dream to say to my friends, through these poems. And you don’t judge me. I watch you quietly chuckle at the poem, maybe smile. Sometimes I catch you reading over it again and again. And… it feels like we’re really friends.”

“Well, since you’ve been wishing for it since first year…” Harry started, then let out a laugh when Draco smacked him on the shoulder. “I don’t know why, but… it feels easier to be around you than most people lately. So, yeah, I’d say we’re friends.”

“So… can we finally move past this awkward stage?” Draco asked, holding his hand out, trying to shake off the uncanny feeling of deja vu.

Harry grinned, taking his hand and shaking it firmly. “Yes, please.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay that poem in this chapter, I genuinely really like it. I'm a horrible poet but I really like this one even if it's not perfect. I also think it fits Draco a lot.  
> (p.s. I didn't proofread the chapter! I'll do it a bit later, sorry early readers if it's a bit wonky or some grammar is bad)
> 
> hope you enjoyed the chapter!  
> \- malfoypolix <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I just wanted to say that this story can also be found on Wattpad. Not sure if I'll keep it up there or not, just wanted to try it out.
> 
> Enjoy the chapter!

“You’re being stupid,” Draco scolded. “How hard is it to remember the ingredients? Tell me. What ingredients do you need for a Wit-Sharpening potion?”

“Er…” Harry glanced down at his textbook that Draco quickly grabbed so he couldn’t read from it. “Come on! Just tell me the first ingredient.”

“There are only three ingredients,” he folded his arms. “Come on! What about the Invigoration Draught?”

“What word is that?” Harry pointed to his hands. “Did you actually learn the signs for the potions?”

“Well, yeah, because you need to know them. Anyway,” he threw the textbook in his hands somewhat aggressively. “Read it again. You have five minutes.”

“A tad bit strict if you ask me,” he commented, opening the book and staring down at the textbook, smiling to himself. “Don’t consider becoming a professor. Students will hate you.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Draco sarcastically replied, giving him a mocking smile. The two sat in silence for the next five minutes, but Harry was too busy watching the blond in front of him scribbling onto a piece of paper to be reading. “Got it?” he asked, looking up. 

“Uh…” Harry winced. “Yes.”

“Okay, then tell me the ingredients to make a Wit-Sharpening potion.”

“Er…”

“Maybe I ought to make you drink a Wit-Sharpening potion,” Draco scoffed, then clicked his tongue. “Ah, wait. There wouldn’t be anything to sharpen.”

“You’re a dick, you know that?”

He stood up slightly, leaning forward and smacking Harry lightly with his book, trying to hold back a smile. “I know,” he sat back down. “Here,” he handed Harry the quill. “Writing helps you remember better. Write down the ingredients needed at least five times.”

Harry groaned, looking over at the piece of paper Draco was writing in. “Another poem?” He stood up quickly and walked so he could read it over his shoulder, knowing rather well he could’ve just picked it up.

“It’s not finished,” Draco said, putting his hands over the paper, aware of how close Harry’s face was. He could practically feel his breath on his neck. To make matters worse, he only leaned in more so his chest was against his back, removing Draco’s hands.   
  


_Don’t keep me company, darling_

_You’re anything but charming_

_We’re always bickering,_

_You think you’re so funny, snickering away_

_Yet we always end up together_

_And I think to myself, why not do this forever?_

_Sometimes I want to slap your face  
  
_

Harry picked up the quill, dipping it in ink, putting an arm over Draco’s shoulder, trying to reach the paper and quickly writing. “Hmm?” he hummed, showing the blond, who was trying to keep his breathing steady as his heart beat sped up.

_But could you keep me in your embrace?_

“This is supposed to be a hate poem,” Draco pointed out. “About these two people bickering and arguing all the time.”

“It seems to me there’d have to be some love,” Harry shrugged, sitting down beside Draco. “Why spend so much time together if all they’re doing is arguing? There has to be more to it than that. Besides, you already wrote here that they want to spend time together forever.”

He stared into the brunet’s green eyes, unsure of how to tell him that the poem was about the two of them. “I guess so,” he said finally. “And… it’s only one of them that likes the time they spend together.”

“I can’t help but think it’s both of them,” he said, grabbing his notebook. “Right, I’ll get to it, then. Stupid wit-sharpening potion.”

“I wouldn’t say that. It’s probably the only thing that could help you in your O.W.Ls.”

“Dick,” Harry muttered.

“Prick.”

“Oh, so you’re rhyming in real life too now?” Harry rolled his eyes. “That’s going to get old.”

“Harry-” he said in a whiny tone, shaking his head. “Get to writing before I slap you in the face.”

The two sat in silence as Draco took out his WSL book, trying to sign a few more words. He stared down at the book in confusion when he got to the phrase ‘can I help you’. Holding his hands up, he flinched when Harry reached out, then relaxed a bit. “What are you doing?” he asked.

Harry was too busy staring down at his hands to lip-read, helping him sign out the phrase. “Don’t get it confused with ‘I need help’. That goes in the opposite direction, like this,” he said, pulling Draco’s hands towards him. “Did that help?”

“...Yes. Thanks, Harry.”

***

Groaning into his pillow, he jumped when he heard Pansy laugh. “What are you doing here?” he asked, watching as she shut the door behind her. Harry and Draco had met up earlier in the morning so they would be able to sneak out easier.

“Looking for you. Why aren’t you coming to lunch?” she asked, folding her arms. “Seriously, you’ve been acting weird lately. I’m a little worried about you. You disappear on Friday evenings, and you were gone today too.”

“I’ve been studying,” he said. “I really have.”

“Right,” she said down near the foot of his bed, watching as he turned to lie on his back, staring up at the ceiling. “Why do you seem so stressed?”

“I’ve been studying with someone the past few weeks,” he blurted, holding his gaze to the ceiling, too embarrassed to even look at Pansy. “And my whole opinion on them is changing.”

“Them? Is it a girl?”

“...Yes?”

“Draco,” she said, narrowing her eyes. He slowly looked over at her, fearful. “Do you have a crush on a boy?”

“Would you… stop being friends with me if I was gay?” he asked, voice shaky as he sat up slowly, wondering if she would hit him. She was the type to smack people if she disagreed with them.

“Oh, honey,” she smiled, and in a bizarre plot twist, wrapped her arms around him tightly. “Of course not. I’ve always had a feeling, you know.”

“Since when?”

“Since your first rant about Harry Potter. That’s sort of a dead giveaway,” she said, chuckling. “But take your time figuring things out. And I’m always with you, no matter what.”

“Really?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly as he held onto her, “because… I feel like I’ve known for a while. I just… put it away. Avoided it.”

She rubbed her hand gently up and down his back. “You should experiment, you know. Go out with boys. See how it feels.”

“Er… I’m not sure if that’s a good idea,” he said, pulling away from her, pulling up the sleeves of his sweater. She eyed him, and he wondered if it was a look of judgement or something else.

“It’s okay if you’re nervous. I know a few boys in Slytherin who would be interested, you know. Do you want me to hook you up?”

“No, it’s not that,” he shook his head. “I’m just not sure about exploring when… I feel weird around this one person.” 

Pansy’s eyes widened, then she nodded. “...I can’t say I’m surprised. It _was_ odd to see this sexuality thing come up like this. I should’ve realized. So you like someone?”

“Um… it’s hard to say.”

“Well, do you think about him a lot?” she asked. “Do you feel worried about him?”

His mouth dry, Draco looked back up at the ceiling, the corner of his lips twitching. “Sometimes our hands touch and it feels like an electric shock,” he mumbled. “And today he was looking over my shoulder… his body was pressed against mine. It felt like my heart was beating out of my chest.”

“How long have you been feeling this way?”

“A… while,” his voice was low, almost as if he was afraid to say it out loud. “You know, with everything that’s going on in my family… he helps me forget. He doesn’t even realize it. And… his laugh is so sweet. It…” 

He stood up quickly, almost tripping but regaining his balance. He picked up his bag, ripping out a piece of paper from his notebook and taking out his quill, dipping it in ink and starting to write.

_Ringing like a sweet melody,_

_It feels like you’re my remedy._

_Stuck in my head,_

_there are so many words left unsaid._

_So many things I can’t understand,_

_But all I know is me feeling this way was unplanned._

_d.m.  
  
_

“What are you writing?” Pansy asked once he was done, setting it to the side.

“A poem for Harry,” he replied.

“Potter?”

“Is there another Harry we know?” he snapped. “Yes, Harry Potter.”

“...about how you’re feeling right now?” she raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you think he’d take it the wrong way? You know, maybe think it’s about him? Besides, I thought each poem had to be about how sorry you are.”

“I don’t think he minds,” he bit his lip. “Also, it wasn’t as if he specified what the poem had to be about. Besides...he can interpret the poem however he wants to.”

Pansy’s eyes widened. “Is the poem about him?” 

“Um…”

“It is, isn’t it?” she asked, suddenly getting excited, clapping her hands together. “That’s so cute! Is he your ‘study buddy’ then?”

“He’s just helping me learn WSL and I’m helping him keep up with his classes. Nothing else,” he put his hands up as if to tell her to calm down. “Seriously.” he folded his arms, then looked at her again. 

“Seems like everything else,” she nudged his shoulder, then sighed when he looked down, playing with his fingers. “I think you should spend more time with him to understand how you really feel."

“Really? So I shouldn’t avoid him as well as my feelings?”

“No!” she exclaimed, startling him. “Certainly not. That would just make it more difficult for both parties involved. You don’t want to keep going back and forth.”

“But… I don’t even know if he’s gay, let alone if he likes the guy who threw his hearing aids into the lake.”

“Focus on your own feelings,” she shook her head. “Allow yourself to feel everything. If it doesn’t work out, then it wasn’t meant to be. You don’t have to, but wouldn’t you beat yourself up not knowing what could’ve been?”

He bit at his thumb nervously, then nodded. “I suppose you’re right. Thanks.”

Harry sat in his dorm, holding the poem in his hands tightly. He hadn’t realized it earlier, but looking back, the poem Draco was writing seemed awfully similar to their situation. But… it couldn’t be, right? There was no way. Otherwise, Harry had just unintentionally told Draco they love each other.

“Hey,” Ron sat as he flopped down across from him. Harry was seated by the window. “We’re going to Hogsmeade if you want to join.”

“No,” he shook his head. “I need to finish up some homework.”

“I think you should come. You haven’t been out of the castle in weeks,” he stated outrageously. “You need to clear your head.”

“Is this you or Hermione speaking?” Harry raised an eyebrow, and Ron pursed his lips.

“Well, she put what I was thinking into words. Besides, I agree. I think you need a break from all of this, mate,” he sighed. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but I’m worried about you.”

Harry looked up at him for a long moment. “What does it mean when someone tells you they dislike you, but like spending time with you?” he asked suddenly, squinting down at the piece of paper.

Ron was surprised at the change of subject, but it was the first time they had spoken about something other than school in a while, so he rolled with it. “Er… I would think they’re trying to convince themselves they don’t like me, but failing.”

“So you agree that they would have to like the person to enjoy spending time with them?”

The redhead stared at him in confusion. “Yes, that’s how relationships work. I think so, at least. Why? Who told you this?”

“No one in particular,” Harry shrugged. “I’m just… confused.”

“I am too,” he said. “Does this have anything to do with that girl who’s been sending you love letters?”

“They're not love letters, Ron.”

“Well, I’m sure they’re not hate letters,” he stood up, then looked back at Harry. “Come with us. Please? We’re just going to the Three Broomsticks.”

He stared at his best friend, then sighed. “Okay. Fine.”

Shrugging on a sweater, Harry followed him outside to the Common Room, where Hermione and Ginny were conversing. The two looked up at him inquisitively. “You’re coming?” Hermione signed. He quickly signed back ‘yes’. 

As they left, Ginny deciding to tag along, Harry chewed on the inside of his lip nervously, fiddling with the piece of paper in his pocket. “You okay?” Ginny said as she tugged on his sweater gently. Hermione and Ron were bickering again, and Harry wasn’t too bothered trying to lip read their conversation.

He shrugged. “Alright. You?”

“I’m good too. You know, I think Dumbledore’s Army was a good idea. It’s nice to see you’re able to help others. You’ve certainly been helping me,” she smiled. 

“Yeah, hopefully I’m still pronouncing the spells properly,” he said. Ginny watched him with uncertainty in her eyes, but didn’t say anything in response. As they entered the Three Broomsticks, Harry looked around, his eye catching Draco’s, who was sitting with Pansy and Blaise.

“There’s Potter,” Blaise spat. “He’s been doing spells again, even pronouncing it properly. I wonder if that Mudblood has been teaching him that.”

Pansy and Draco exchanged glances. “Probably,” she replied, using her eyes to tell Draco to stay silent. “Anyway-”

“Oh, look, he’s signing. Draco, don’t you think we should mess with him again? I feel like that prat deserves it,” he said smugly, taking a sip from his drink.

Unsure if he should smile or nod or ignore his existence, the seeming trance placed on him was broken by Hermione who nudged him. “What do you want to drink?” she signed.

“Just butterbeer, thanks,” he signed back, looking back at Draco, who had now turned back to his friends. They sat down a few booths down from the three Slytherins. Harry sat down, then looked up, noticing that he and Draco could see each other perfectly. They made eye contact again, both awkwardly raising their eyebrows, as if they were unsure of what to say.

“Draco?” Blaise asked. 

“Hmm?” he practically tore his gaze off of Harry, looking over at his friend.

“I said we should mess with Potter again. We can do it more discreetly if you’re worried about getting into trouble,” he said. “What do you say?”

“I say, you’re being stupid,” Draco stated, looking down at his coffee. “Seriously. Don’t you think it’s better to just leave it? I mean, I already got three weeks of detention. I don’t need anymore at the risk of being caught. Besides, I’m a prefect.”

“Leave it? All you’ve done the past five years is go on about Potter, and you’re telling me three weeks of detention with him has convinced you to leave him alone?”

“I just don’t think you should be making fun of him for being deaf,” he said quietly, taking a sip from his drink. Pansy, beside him, chewed on her lip uncomfortably. Even she didn’t know what to say.

“A bit hypocritical of you, don’t you think?” Blaise laughed bitterly. “Come on, don’t be such a wuss. Crabbe and Goyle will help too.”

“No,” Draco firmly said this time, sitting up properly. “Leave it. Don’t involve yourself with him. He… all he does is cause trouble wherever he goes.”

“But it’s funny, isn’t it?” Blaise pestered, realizing he seemed to be hitting a nerve. “The bloody git can’t even hear us talking about him one feet away. He’s a bit of an idiot-”

“Shut up, Blaise,” he snapped, nostrils flaring, his eyes piercing.

“Since when do you care what’s said about Potter? Don’t tell me you’ve become his bodyguard, just like the Weasel and the Mudblood. Or worse, don’t tell me he’s won your heart over,” he let out a loose laugh. “Got a boyfriend, have we? Feeling a bit protective?”

Draco stood up, knocking the glasses on their table over, grabbing Blaise by the collar and pulling him up. The chatter in the pub had quietened down, and all eyes were on the two. Harry, clueless, followed everyone else’s gaze after noticing they were gaping at something.

“I suggest you stop,” the blond threatened in a low voice, aware of all the people staring. Gritting his teeth, the pure disgust was evident on his face. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

Blaise seemed complacent, pushing Draco’s hand off of him. “He must have his dick deep inside you to do-”

Draco pushed him to the floor, and a huge gasp came from everyone that was watching. Blaise fell against a table then onto the floor. For a moment, it seemed as if he wasn’t going to get back up, but he stood up quickly, punching Draco in the face. 

In shock, he stared at the other for a second, then punched Blaise back. The two went back and forth until Pansy finally stood up, unable to take it any longer. “Knock it _off_!” Pansy raised her voice, pushing Blaise off of Draco. “What the hell is wrong with you two?”

“Ask the absolute motherfucker,” Draco said, putting a hand to his cheek, unable to even look in Harry’s direction, but knew damn well that he was staring. He felt severely humiliated, his silver eyes gleaming as he frowned. He was unable to fathom what was happening. Gulping, he swiftly went towards the door, face getting warm. 

“Potter’s that way, moron,” Blaise pointed towards the table Ron, Hermione, Harry and Ginny were sitting at. He cleared his throat, then sat back down at the booth. Pansy shook her head in disbelief, then followed after Draco. Blaise cursed loudly then left too.

“Um… what was that about?” Harry asked once the chatter slowly started up again. 

“I really couldn’t tell you,” Hermione answered, seeming somewhat startled.

***

The door opened and Draco entered. Harry let out a sigh of relief, sitting up. There was now a couch in their study room that was conjured up every time they entered the Room of Requirement.

“You came,” Harry said.

“You asked,” the blond responded, holding up the note. He sat down beside the other. Harry put a tentative hand to his wounded cheek. Draco flinched slightly, but let him touch it, unable to look at him.

“I know it’s not my place, but…” he started, looking down at the pack of plasters that appeared on the table beside the couch. Picking it up, he shook the box slightly. Draco waved his hand as if to say no, and Harry found himself taking out a plaster, carefully putting it over the cut, carefully tracing his thumb over the swollen part of his face.

“Why are you doing that?” Draco whispered. He was afraid to ask because he knew Harry would stop as soon as he did, but it was weird. Odd. Almost made what Blaise had accused true.

“Sorry,” Harry jerked his hand away. “It’s not my place.”

The two sat in silence for a moment.

“Why did you two fight?” he asked. “I’ve… never seen you look so hurt before. I was worried. Again, like I said, not my place.”

“You said we’re friends, right?” Draco looked up, finally looking into Harry’s emerald green eyes, who was busy reading his lips, which also had a few cuts. His platinum blond hair, for once, was not combed to perfection, nor did it have any sort of weird gel in it. It fell into his eyes. When Harry nodded, he shrugged. “Then you have every right to ask.”

“So… do you want to tell me?”

“We fought about something stupid,” he lied, shaking his head, looking down at his grazed knuckles. Gulping, he chewed on the inside of his cheek nervously. “He’s just… been getting on my nerves lately. It was just a lot of small things that led up to this fight.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t seem like something stupid,” he muttered, grabbing Draco’s hand. The two watched as a gauze bandage appeared. Harry picked it up and started wrapping it around Draco’s left hand, where the wounds were. “Hermione said my name was mentioned. I don’t want to assume, but…” 

“For fuck’s sake,” he said under his breath, then looked up. “Yes. It was about you.”

“Well, that much is obvious,” he replied. “Why would you fight about me?”

With some hesitation, Draco spoke. “He was saying these stupid things about you. Things I was saying at the start of this year. And hearing it from him made me realize the stupidity of my words. Anyway, I told him to cut it out, and he started telling me how you’re my boyfriend because I’m trying to ‘protect’ you.”

Harry’s eyes widened slightly. “That’s a bit…” 

“Stupid? Ridiculous? Absurd?”

“...surprising,” he finished. “You’re a bit worked up right now.”

“You would be too if you fought with your best friend,” he answered, yanking his hand away from Harry. His touch burnt, but unlike a scalding, sizzling wound, he found himself desperate for more. His fingers were soft, warm, gentle - caring. “Thanks, but you don’t need to worry about me.”

Startled, Harry watched as he stood up, walking towards the door. He paused at the doorknob, hand trembling as the Gryffindor spoke up. “I can’t not worry,” he was saying, his voice shaky. He was unsure of how loud he was being. “I thought you said we were friends.”

Draco put a hand to his cheek as he turned around to face him again. “Right, friends,” he nodded. “I suppose that’s all it is.”

Harry kept his eyes on him, confused. It seemed that the blond was conflicted, and he was too afraid to ask. He didn’t want to pry, but he didn’t like seeing him like this. It seemed to be a raw, unfiltered version of Draco Malfoy, one that he had never seen before. When he looked up again, his silver eyes held no emotion.

“I’ll see you on Friday,” Draco signed, opening the door and leaving before Harry could stop him.

What had just happened?

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this chapter :))


	7. Chapter 7

Harry spent the next few days wondering why Draco would even want to fight Blaise for something like that. It wasn’t like they were that good friends, right? While he felt like he could talk to him about things, he didn’t realize that they were at that stage. 

The poems to him, however, had stopped. It was an insufferable, Friday morning, but the hope that they would be meeting in the evening to study gave him a shred of excitement, and it was enough to work with amidst the chatter of his friends that he couldn’t possibly join. They were all talking way too fast, and it felt like they were having three conversations at once.

Harry avoided Hermione’s sympathetic gaze. It was uncomfortable and disheartening. He glanced over to the Slytherin table behind him. He made eye contact with Pansy, who seemed to be moping, and Draco, beside her, was staring down at his full plate of food, unable to even pick up the fork.

“Harry’s looking,” she mumbled under her breath. It wasn’t as if anyone could hear her - Blaise was being the loudest at the table, acting as if he had won the fight between Draco, and as if it somehow determined his worth.

“Tell him to stop looking, then,” he responded, picking up the fork with his left hand, wincing slightly. It was hard for him to write or do anything, but surprisingly, the professors had not been informed of the fight, nor were they too concerned to find out. “I don’t want to look at his stupid emerald eyes.”

“Well, he’s looked away now,” she sighed, almost in a disappointed tone. “I thought you wanted to figure out your feelings?”

“That was before I fought someone because of him,” he said rather harshly, stuffing his face with a mouthful of food. “Before his stupid touch made my skin burn. Now all I want to do is dig a hole and bury myself in it. He definitely took the fight the wrong way. I was just trying to stop Blaise from making bizarre accusations.”

“Or were you trying to stop him from insulting Harry?” Pansy asked.

He groaned. “Shut up.”

***

Harry sat in the Room of Requirement that evening. Draco was late. He was never late. He was either early or they would catch each other in the hallway just while entering, Harry under his Invisibility Cloak. But Draco was never late, nor would he stop writing poems. Maybe Harry _did_ push it. But was it really so bad for him to do that? He was only worried.

An hour passed and though he was trying to get on with his work, all he felt was humiliation. They had barely been friends for two weeks and it was already messed up. Was it impossible for the two of them to have a normal relationship- friendship? Sighing, Harry stood up, shutting his books and dumping them into his bag. This was too depressing. Perhaps he had misread the proximity of their friendship.

He turned around to leave, he jumped when he noticed Draco standing at the door, his tie loose and hair messy, seeming out of breath. The two locked eyes, and for a moment, everything had left Harry’s mind. The overthinking, the stress, the worrying had left, and the only thing he could think of was: Draco’s eyes had never gleamed this way before.

“I didn’t think you were gonna come,” he said, folding his arms.

“I didn’t think so either,” Draco spoke, and this time, he signed while speaking. “I didn’t want to see you.”

“Then leave,” he said, taking a step forward. He set his bag down to the floor, not taking his eyes off of him. “I’m not going to force you to be here.”

“I know,” the blond shrugged, stepping towards the brunet, trying not to smile. “I just thought about how sad your arse would be to spend a Friday without me now. I bet you’re used to it.”

“I’m used to you annoying the fuck out of me,” Harry retorted. “But it’s a good kind of annoyance, I suppose. Beats Ron and Hermione’s constant bickering. Though, obviously, I have no way of being able to tell if it’s bickering or a normal conversation. I don’t really speak to them much.”

“Well, that turned depressing quick,” Draco replied, finding himself smiling as the boy in front of him laughed, reaching forward and gently caressing his bandaged hand. 

“You’re signing,” he smiled. “Lousily, but it’s good. You should do it more often when you speak to me. Helps me understand you a bit better.”

“I’m injured,” he said dramatically, putting a hand to his forehead. “I know it’s surprising to hear, but even I, Draco Malfoy, can’t be perfect at everything. I’m better at it than most, of course, but no, not perfect.”

“You’re perfectly good at getting on my nerves.”

Draco reached forward to smack him, then softly placed his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Let’s get cracking, shall we?”

He was surprised, to say the least, and to be frank, he wasn’t sure if he liked this new side of Draco. “Um… you know, you don’t need to come every Friday if you don’t want to,” Harry pointed out. “I’m sure you’re busy with friends.”

“Well, my only friend right now is Pansy, and she’s more interested in having her tongue in some guy’s mouth, so I think I’m alright,” he replied without looking up, biting at his thumb as he stared down at the textbook.

“Does that make you mad?” Harry asked carefully, taking his books out of his bags again so he had an excuse to avoid his gaze. “To see her making out with guys?”

Draco waited for him to look up again, then started speaking. “I mean… a little,” he shrugged, and for some reason, Harry’s chest darkened. “It’s quite unfair that she gets all the guys, isn’t it? She should leave _some_ for others.”

The feeling in his chest lightened a bit. “Oh, you mean that way. I was just wondering if you… I dunno, liked her or something.”

“Well, do you like Granger?”

“What? No, of course not. We’re not like that -- we couldn’t be.”

“I figured. That’s how I feel about Pansy, too,” he stated, staring down at the book in front of him.

“You need any clearing up on those pages?” Harry asked, leaning forward and scanning the page. The other shook his head and he nodded. “Alright. I’m just finishing up a Potions essay.”

“Tell me if you need help,” Draco said. 

They lasted in silence for about ten minutes, until Harry looked up to see him gazing frustratedly down at the book, shaking his head. “Do you need help?” he asked. 

“No, I just… this week has been so frustrating,” he answered. “Blaise has done practically everything to get on my nerves, and most of the Slytherins keep giving me dirty looks. I have no idea what he told them, but I’m sure it wasn’t something good. And, on top of _that_ , Christmas is in a month. That means I need to go home for the holidays but I’ve barely learnt any sign language-”

“Hey, hey,” Harry cut him off in a gentle tone. “Calm down. You were talking too fast for me to lip-read, but I think I got the gist of it.”

Draco looked at him apologetically. “I’m sorry, I was just heated up. I’ll enunciate more-” he watched as the other stood up, then held out his hand. “What?”

“Give me your hand,” he said.

“Why?” he asked, and in response, Harry grabbed his hand and tugged him until he stood up. “What are you doing?”

“They say a good way to relieve stress is to dance,” he said, leading Draco to the open space near the tables. “So I think we should dance.” 

“There’s barely any space,” he started, but watched as the room suddenly grew significantly larger, more than enough space for them to dance, along with a dance floor. “I’m not sure if that was a requirement.” he groaned as some loud, ballroom dancing music started playing. “Music? really?”

“Hush,” Harry said, kicking his shoes off, trying his best to feel the vibrations through the floor. “Now, I don’t know any other dance except for the Yule Ball one, so we’re going to have to do that. I’ll lead.”

The Slytherin half-heartedly swayed with the music, looking down at the boy in front of him, who was grinning like an idiot. “God, Potter,” he shook his head, trying to keep a somewhat composed face, “you’re getting all of the beats wrong!”

“Care to lead, then, abled-hearing person?” he asked, and this time, Draco laughed out loud as he switched the placement of their arms so he was now leading. This seemed more comfortable for the two, even though Harry had originally learnt how to lead. It was surprising to him how gracefully Draco moved, as if it came to him naturally. He was even smiling now, letting himself get lost in the dance. Even the arms around Harry’s waist felt in place and not uncomfortable.

“Do you think you can- oh!” he gasped as Draco lifted him up carefully then placed him down, just like the Yule Ball dance. “You did that quite well, I must say. Parvati wasn’t pleased with my skills as a date _nor_ as a dancer.”

“I saw you that night,” he responded as they continued to move to the music. “You were moping and sitting in one place. You seemed quite angry, so I didn’t feel like coming and insulting you. Besides, Moody would have probably turned me into a ferret again.”

“Barty Crouch Jr.,” Harry corrected. “How would you rate my dancing skills on a scale from one to ten?” 

“I’d-” Draco twirled him around, but all of a sudden, Harry slipped over the floor because of his socks, causing him to fall backwards onto the ground. “Oh my God, Harry-” 

Wincing, Harry stayed on the ground, opening his eyes on looking up at the concerned silver-eyed boy who was leaning over him. The music continued to play and as the two stared at each other, they burst into laughter. 

“You’re… such a dumbass…” Draco said during wheezes, shaking his head. “You’re not supposed to let go of my hand!” 

“ _I’m_ sorry,” he mocked, then rested his head flat against the floor. “I can feel the beat thumping into my head.”

“Really?” he asked. Harry watched as the blond loosened his tie and adjusted his trousers, lying down on the floor beside him. “Hmm… that’s quite relaxing, actually.”

The two stayed quiet, letting themselves relax, until Harry finally spoke up. “I wish I could hear the music,” he remarked. Draco turned his head to face him, and so did the other. The two were taken aback by how close their faces were, but neither made an attempt to move.

“It’s not that great to hear, you know,” he said. “If you don’t want to deal with someone, you just get to close your eyes. It’s quite funny, actually.”

Harry chuckled. “Yeah, but no one really annoys me - except for you, of course. It… gets quite boring for me. Everyone’s having a conversation and I… I need Hermione to translate what’s happening.” 

“Harry,” he said in a soft voice. They both felt the music die down, dissolving into a calm yet tense silence in the atmosphere. “I’m sorry. I was only joking.”

He smiled. “I know. That’s what I like about you. You know… I really am grateful for you sometimes.”

“You are?” Draco asked, turning his head so he was staring up at the ceiling, too afraid to look into his eyes now. His heart was thumping.

“After what happened…” he gulped, “everyone was treading on thin ice. They still are. They try not to bring it up if they don’t have to. But you? You weren’t afraid to say it to my face. And you weren’t afraid to treat me the same way you have been the past few years. It was like… while it feels like everything is changing, you’re the one reminding me that not much really has to change.”

He cleared his throat. “But the way I treated you was awful.”

“But that’s what’s normal to me. You being Malfoy, an absolute prick, trying to find new ways to get under my skin. I agree, the hearing aids were too far, and I’m really glad we were able to move past all of that and become friends.”

“Do you forgive me for that?”

“Course not,” he said up, a cheeky smile on his face, wondering why his face felt so hot. “Back to work?”

“As much fun that dance break was, yes,” Draco replied, getting to his feet.

***

“Where were you last night?” Hermione raised an eyebrow as he sat down beside her. _Not a moment of peace_ , he thought to himself. She folded her arms, and Harry correlated her expression to one of an angry mother. “I was worried.” 

“When are you not worried about me anymore,” he rolled his eyes, then gulped. “Sorry. That was a bit out of line. I was in the room of requirement studying and fell asleep there. I came back a bit late.”

“Alright, if you say so…” she said. “Sorry for prying. I’m-”

“-only worried. I know. Thank you. Should we head to the room of requirement now?”

“I feel like you’re being a bit short with me,” she told him. 

“I feel like you’re worrying for me too much and not letting me breathe,” he responded. “I get it. I’m deaf. But please don’t treat me any differently. You know I hate feeling like an outcast.”

“He’s right,” Ron chimed in, who had just joined them as they left the Gryffindor Common Room.

“...well, if you really feel that way, then I’m sorry. Tell me if I’m overstepping again,” she said, her frown helping Harry understand that she actually did feel quite sorry. “Let’s go. Last lesson before the holidays, huh?”

The lesson went by somewhat smoothly. Harry found it easy to teach everyone, especially since they were actually quite eager to learn. He also found it to be a good thing to be doing this rather than moping about all day. It felt like he was achieving something. At the end of the lesson, as he waited for everyone to leave, he noticed Cho hanging back. 

It was now only two of them in a room, and she was crying. He frowned. “Are you alright?”

“I’m sorry…” she was saying, “I just… miss him terribly, especially as we learn all of this.”

“I understand,” he responded, walking towards her. “I miss him too. It’s like… little things, you know? That reminds you of him. Like the change in the color of the leaves, or the first snowfall, or someone who looks at you the way he would.”

Cho stared at him now, wide-eyed. “That’s exactly it,” she whispered. “You’re… a good teacher, you know.”

“Thanks,” he said, unsure of why she was staying here, talking to him like this.

“Mistletoe,” she pointed towards the ceiling. The two looked up, and surely enough, there was a mistletoe. And before he knew it, her wet lips were on him, and all he could do was stand there in awe. And while he kissed her back, he couldn’t help but realize how wrong it felt.

“You’ve been so weird all weekend,” Ron said as the three sat down during Charms class. It was a revision lesson today, which meant they could study and chat all they liked. After all, it was their last week before the holidays. “Did something happen?”

“When does something not happen to me?” he sighed, looking across the room, raising his eyebrows slightly at Draco as if to greet him, who tried not to smile in response, looking back down at his work. “Um… I was kissed.”

“WHAT?” Ron said loudly, earning a smack from Hermione. Both Draco and Pansy looked up, surprised by the disruption. They kept their eyes on the three, who seemed to be part of an intense conversation. “Sorry. Um. _Why_?"

“Ron, you’re such an idiot,” Hermione rolled her eyes, signing along as she spoke. Draco was glad for two things - one being that he knew basic sign language, and the other that the three used sign language to communicate while speaking. “The important question is, _who_?”

“Cho,” Harry replied solemnly.

“And you’re unhappy you had your first kiss because…?” Ron asked, folding his arms. 

“I’m not particularly satisfied that my first kiss was my dead-friend’s-ex-girlfriend who also happened to be _my_ ex-crush. And I kissed her back!” he answered, and the three broke into a small smile, knowing full well it was not something to laugh about. 

“Ex-crush?” Hermione raised an eyebrow. “Weren’t you just gaping at her in the previous lesson?”

“What? No?” Harry shook his head, thinking back to their previous class, which was potions. He had been staring at Draco most of the time. Now that he thought about it, Cho was actually in his line of vision. “Ohh, I wasn’t staring at _her,_ I was staring at Dr-”

He paused and the two stared at him, expectantly waiting for an answer. Hermione’s gaze, as usual, was somewhat judgemental.

“...doesn’t matter who I was staring at,” he corrected himself before they could notice. “I don’t like her anymore. Not sure if I ever liked her, actually…”

“Then why did you even kiss her back?” Ron asked.

“I couldn’t just push her away! She was sad,” he pointed out. “I don’t suppose you would push, I don’t know, Hermione away if she kissed you while she was sad?”

“Bloody Hell!” Ron exclaimed. “That’s… that’s unimaginable!”

Hermione and Ron exchanged glances, both uncomfortably imagining kissing each other. They stayed silent and Harry shook his head. Those two were in such a weird phase and he realized it probably wasn’t a good idea to say that. “Whatever. All I’m saying is, I’m not too happy that she was my first kiss.”

“Who would you want to be your first kiss, then?” Hermione asked.

His eyes moved down to his lap, thinking of how Cedric’s stare used to make him feel nervous. He had been too afraid to confront his feelings. It was strange, right? To feel like this about another person, let alone someone who was also a male. He was able to push it away before. It wasn’t a big deal - Cedric was warm, caring, and kind, it was only understandable. He was a role model, a fun person to be around. It was only an infatuation, barely anything real.

Harry looked up, his eyes reaching Draco’s, who was already staring at him. But his stare wasn’t nerve-wrecking, unlike Cedric’s, unlike Cho’s.

His stare was heavy, it was intoxicating, it was somewhat tense, but it made Harry feel at ease. He thought of his lips on Draco’s and felt his face heat up. There was no denying it now. The blond had definitely been listening to their conversation. Harry looked down, shaking his head, his face pink.

“I don’t know,” he answered finally. He couldn’t lie to himself. Cedric may have been an infatuation, sure, but Draco was different. It was everything he felt with Cedric and more. It was stronger. It was the way Draco fiddled with his ring whenever he was focused, it was the way he’d run his hands through his stupid, silky hair at least a thousand times a day, the way his silver eyes sunk into Harry’s, making him feel so on display, yet so safe at the same time. It was the way Draco’s poems were the only thing he was looking forward to in the mornings, and the way Friday evenings were his favorite time of the week.

“Hmm. For the record, Ron, I wouldn’t kiss you even if I was the saddest person alive.”

“Who would you go to, then? Viktor Krum?” he scoffed. Hermione glared at him, and Harry now looked back down at his work, shaking his head.

Draco cleared his throat awkwardly, turning to Pansy. “Cho Chang,” he said in a somewhat disappointed tone, picking up the quill on his table.

“She’s got game,” Pansy shrugged, putting a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. He rolled his eyes at her. “You have to give her that. But I wouldn’t be too disappointed. He clearly doesn’t like her."

“You were watching their conversation too?” Draco asked, looking at her somewhat accusingly.

“It’s not like they’re whispering,” she said. “Besides, it’s easy to lip read their conversations when they enunciate so much.”

“It’s to make sure Harry understands them,” he replied, and all Pansy did was smile at him, as if she knew something about himself that he didn’t. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s frightening.”

Draco looked over to the Gryffindor again, who was looking at him now, almost curiously. He raised his eyebrows slightly, as if to ask him if everything was alright. He nodded in response, and Harry gave him a small smile. Draco smiled back before the two both turned back to their work.

“You’re smiling,” Pansy sang. “You really like him, don’t you?” 

Draco looked at her with a deadpan expression, shaking his head at her, but he couldn’t deny it. “...I dunno,” he said finally, chewing on the inside of his cheek nervously. But the answer was yes. 

Much more than he’d ever care to admit.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't mind me, writing during my exam week. oopsie daisy
> 
> hope you enjoyed the chap lovelies


	8. Chapter 8

“Pansy, I really don’t-”

Draco looked up, raising an eyebrow when he saw Blaise and Pansy approaching him. He stared down at the faded wounds on his knuckles, trying not to think about how gently Harry had wrapped the bandage around his hand. With an icy expression, he folded his arms.

“Hey,” Blaise said, pursing his lips. “...Pansy helped me realize that what I did was out of line and stupid. So… I’m sorry for everything I said. I didn’t mean to sound so homophobic.”

“Are you sure you’re not homophobic?” Draco asked. 

“No, I’m not,” he shook his head. “I was way out of line. I guess it was because I felt offended when you told me to shut up or whatever. Either way, I’m sorry.”

He stared at him for a moment. “Okay.”

“So… d’you forgive me?”

“I’ll think about it,” Draco sighed, chewing on his lip. “I know I wasn’t exactly the nicest either, but… I need to think about it.”

“But I’ve apologized,” Blaise folded his arms.

“Yeah, you did, but the way you behaved was quite ridiculous. I can’t just forgive you like that. I hope you understand it’s sort of hard for me,” he said calmly, then stood up. “Thank you for your apology.”

Blaise and Pansy exchanged glances as he left the common room, his bag slung around his shoulder.

“My, my,” Harry said as he saw Draco sprawled on the couch, WSL book in his hands. “It’s the last day before the holidays and you’re _still_ studying?”

He reached the couch and sat on the ground just in front of Draco’s face, who rolled his eyes. “I’m going to meet my relative tomorrow, dumbass. I need to make sure I know everything.”

“You’re really committed to learning this for some relative you don’t even know that well,” Harry commented, taking the book from his hands checking out which page he was on. “Oh, come on, this is easy.”

“Well, it’s not only for him now is it?” Draco said, reaching out for the book and glaring when Harry put it out of his reach. “I also have to learn it because of you. But perhaps some Ravenclaw is better off learning sign language for you.”

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing. I just think it’s funny how you like a Ravenclaw girl,” he shrugged, sitting up properly.

“Are you talking about Cho?” Harry raised an eyebrow, moving forward and sitting down beside him on the couch. “...so you _did_ listen to our conversation in Charms?”

“Listen? You were signing everything. It was hard _not_ to pay attention, you know,” he scoffed. “Do you like her?”

“Draco-”

“Do you?”

“My God!” Harry cried out in annoyance. “Why does it matter to you if I do or not? Do you like Cho?”

He stayed silent, unsure of what to say. Why did it matter? When did the thought of Harry with someone else start hurting him? When did the thought of his soft lips on his become a daydream? When did the thoughts of Harry Potter fill his mind?

Why did his heart beat abnormally fast every time they touched, why did he find himself aching for more? He was Draco Malfoy and he was Harry Potter. They weren’t supposed to be friends, let alone… 

“Is that it? Do you like her? Are you jealous that I got to kiss her?” he persisted. “I didn’t think you would like a Ravenclaw, but… I’m not going to fight with you over a girl. God, Draco, why do we always have to fight? Why can’t we just-”

“It’s not you I’m jealous of,” Draco blurted, his face turning red as he stood up. “It’s not her I want to kiss,” he said, turning away from Harry.

“Then what is it? The only other thing I can think of is…” he stood up slowly. The blond turned around to look at him, his silver eyes shining with an emotion that Harry couldn’t decipher. They stared at each other until Harry looked up to see the mistletoe hanging above them.

“Was that a requirement?” he asked, his face inching closer to Draco’s, who laughed slightly. “You know, they say it’s bad luck if you don’t kiss under the mistletoe.”

“I guess we’re both stuck with bad luck, then,” Draco said, moving forward. He leaned downwards and brushed his lips against Harry’s ever so gently, as if to ask for permission. Their hearts were pounding as Draco kissed him again with more confidence, trying not to smile when Harry put his arms around his neck. It wasn’t a wet kiss this time. It wasn’t awkward and nor did Harry feel like it was some sort of obligation to be kissing Draco. It felt like a need that needed to be fulfilled.

Every time they stopped for air, their eyes met, only for them to go back for another. It was as if they were the only two people in the world. Draco kept his hands on Harry’s face, too nervous to touch him anywhere else. His whole body was tingling and he felt Harry smile, which only made his heart leap more. 

When they pulled away for the last time, Harry looked up at him nervously, breathing heavily. He put a hand to his own lips, not taking his eyes off Draco, too overwhelmed to say anything. The two flopped down on the couch, still buzzing from the kiss.

“You’re wonderful,” Draco whispered. “And I don’t know why, but the thought of you with someone else feels awful.”

Harry seemed surprised. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“You don’t need to say anything,” he shook his head. “I just wanted you to know that. I don’t want to fight with you Harry, not ever again. If you want to forget about…” he pointed to the mistletoe, “I understand.”

“I don’t think I forget if I wanted to,” he said, leaning closer to Draco again. “...could we try doing that again sometime, if you enjoyed it? Because I know I certainly did.”

The silver-eyed boy found himself unable to stop smiling. “We could try right now. It’s just you and me here.”

Harry leaned forward and kissed him, this time a little more intense, but still sweet all the same. 

***

“You’ve been grinning all day, you know,” Hermione said as she noticed Harry smiling to himself again as they entered the train. “It’s a bit alarming, actually.”

“Have I?” Harry asked, a smile still on his face, clutching his bag. “I’m just glad to be going home, you know, seeing everyone.”

“Right. Are you sure Cho didn’t see you again?” Ron asked as they walked past the Slytherin compartment. Both him and Hermione snickered. “You know, maybe for a round two…”

“Shut up, Ron,” he rolled his eyes, trying to hide his smile. He looked ahead to see Draco seated. The two made eye contact, and for a brief moment, Harry’s breath caught in his throat. He gulped, then looked away quickly, smiling again as he walked past the blond, who was also trying not to smile.

“I swear you guys just eye-fucked,” Pansy whispered and Draco let out a snort. He was in too good of a mood to even get annoyed by her. She had been able to tell something had happened as soon as he entered the Slytherin Common Room the night before. She asked him what happened and Draco, too flustered to lie, came clean. “You two are like star-crossed lovers.”

“I’d hope not,” he replied. “That’d be quite depressing.”

“Well, have you discussed anything with him yet?”

“It’s barely been a day, Pansy. I don’t want to seem clingy,” he stated as if what he was saying was so obvious. “I don’t want to rush anything, either. It’d be quite embarrassing, wouldn’t it?”

“It would be bold,” she corrected, but Draco just shook his head.

The holidays for Harry were rather depressing, if not lonely. They had gone to visit Arthur Weasley who had been attacked, and he barely talked to anyone the whole time. The whole mood had been ruined by the visions that had been bothering him. Their first night back at home, Harry had gotten a ‘dream’ about Arthur through the eyes of the snake, and they had all rushed to the hospital.

Harry couldn’t help but feel so overwhelmed. Along with his unexplained feelings for Draco, he was getting visions of the Dark Lord, and was barely able to communicate with anyone. He was quite grateful for being deaf during the holidays. It gave him an excuse not to speak to anyone.

Every morning, without fail, there would be Draco’s owl at the window with a new poem. Harry found himself writing back, either related to the poem or just something completely different, just to get his mind off of the things that had been eating at him. Those ten minutes every morning were the only eventful and positive thing about his days.

It wasn’t as if Draco had been having the best time either. As he arrived at Malfoy Manor, he knew things were going to be awful. He was unsure if he was able to tell because of the way his father had looked at him as soon as he entered. 

“Where’s mother?” he asked, watching as Lucius Malfoy looked up from his newspaper, raising an eyebrow. For a moment, they stared at each other in silence, until he curled his lip.

“Is that how you greet your father, Draco?” he asked, setting the newspaper down on the table in front of him. “Re-enter the room.”

Draco stared at him in disbelief, but the darkened expression in his father had tinged a fear in him that was all too familiar. He nodded, leaving and entering the room in a well-mannered position, trying to remember everything he had learnt as a child. Hold your head up, even steps, and more importantly, be the most confident person in the room.

“Hello, Father,” he spoke, trying to speak evenly.

“That’s better,” he nodded, a small smirk on his face, as if he knew just how much power he had over his son. “Your mother is in her room. The doctor was just in for a check-up. Go see how she is.”

“Yes, of course,” Draco said, turning and leaving. He made his way to his parents’ wing of the mansion, walking down the cold, empty hallways. He almost couldn’t believe that just a day ago him and Harry were kissing. “Mother, how are you feeling?” he signed as he entered. She looked up, eyes widening.

“Draco… did you learn sign language?” she asked while signing back.

“Of course,” he replied. “I had to. For you. How are you feeling?”

She smiled at him, the exhaustion in her eyes clear. “I’m alright. I’m sure you got the letter from your father… that I can’t hear at all anymore.”

“Yes,” he nodded, gulping nervously as he shut the door behind him. “I’m so sorry, Mother. I was selfish. Our last conversation… I don’t want you to remember my voice like that. I was out of line.”

“You don’t need to apologize for what happened. I understand. I was… just worried you wouldn’t want to learn sign language because of it.”

“You’re my mother,” he shook his head. “...and the only family member I can tolerate,” he whispered under his breath, walking over to her and hugging her. He knew he shouldn’t have; Malfoys don’t hug. They don’t show affection. Hell, they’re lucky if they even understand what love is. But she hugged him back, almost as if she had been waiting for him to.

“Draco,” she said softly, eyebrows furrowed. “How did you even learn sign language?” 

“Um… there’s a club,” he lied quickly. “You know, since Potter is deaf. I suppose they’re trying to be more inclusive.”

Narcissa looked at him with a small smile on her face. “So I was right? He _is_ actually deaf and not… pretending, like you said?” she asked. She tried not to show it, but she was surprised by his signing ability. 

“I don’t see a reason for him to keep up a lie for so long,” he shrugged.

“The poor boy… what a horrible thing to go through. His whole life has been messed up. I can’t help but imagine what it would be like if it happened to you, and that’s what makes me so-”

“I understand, and I feel the same way, but… don’t speak so loud,” he answered quickly, speaking in a low tone. “You don’t know who could be listening. These Death Eaters would do anything to get on the good side of the Dark Lord.”

She looked at him, then nodded, taking his hands and holding them tightly for a moment. “...I suppose you’re right. Let’s talk about something else.”

“Have you heard of anything? A cure?” he asked.

“Your father has heard of some wizarding hearing aids being made. Not a cure, but… it would help me hear again.”

“Maybe you should try Muggle hearing aids,” Draco suggested. “Um… Potter had them. I, uh… threw them in the lake.”

She gave him a long, hard stare. “I suppose your father would be proud of that,” she said finally, but the disgust in her tone was clear. “Did you apologize? Did you pay him back for it?”

“I apologized,” Draco nodded. “Several times. I know what I did was wrong.”

“Well, good, because I didn’t raise you to be like that,” she said sternly. “Anyway, we tried to acquire them, but it was difficult. For now, I’m fine like this. Besides, wizarding hearing aids would be quite expensive.”

“That’s fine for us,” he waved his hand, then blinked. “Oh. For Harry…” 

“What about the Potter kid?” Lucius asked as he entered. Draco and Narcissa turned, and the atmosphere had immediately turned sour. “Off you go, then, Draco. Your mother and I have… some matters to discuss.”

He looked among both of them, and Narcissa nudged him. “Go. We’ll meet at dinner.”

“Right…” he said. “If you’ll excuse me, then…” he stood up and left the room. This was how every visit was for him. It was lonely, cold, and silent. He thought of Harry, wondering if he was alright. They wouldn’t be able to communicate except for letters. Draco realized he would probably have to send his letters early in the morning to avoid the risk of his father or anyone reading it.

***

Two days before Christmas, the poems had come to an abrupt stop. There was no owl tapping on Harry’s window. He decided not to question it - holidays were busy times, and he had a big family. A family full of Death Eaters…

He pushed the thought away. Draco was too young to become a Death Eater anytime soon, and just because of the Malfoys’ beliefs, it didn’t mean he would follow them. But… it wasn’t as if he wouldn’t. 

On the night of Christmas day, he picked up his quill, dipping it in ink and starting to write a letter.

_Hey Draco,_

_No poems? Don’t stop them now. You’re getting quite good at them, you know. I hope you’re alright. Did you fall sick?_

_Christmas was odd. You know… Arthur Weasley was attacked, so things have been tense. I’m honestly starting to doubt everything. I guess I shouldn’t write it all here, there’s a risk this might get in the hands of someone else._

_I hope you’re well._

_Harry Potter_

He quickly rolled up the paper and sent it off with Hedwig before could overthink it. He knew it seemed clingy in a way, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help but feel something was wrong.

The day before Christmas, Draco stayed in his room, lying under the covers of his bed. He had about five or six poems simply hidden under his pillow, but he knew he couldn’t send them. More so, shouldn’t. Malfoy Manor had held a Death Eater meeting two days ago, and the things he heard made him realize the depth of the situation he was in.

He shouldn’t have let it come to this. What was he thinking? _Harry Potter_? His father’s enemy? 

He quickly sat up when he heard a knock on his door. Lucius came striding in without waiting for a response. “What are you doing?” he asked. Draco sat up, confused. “Come, sit,” he patted the chair beside him. “I need to talk to you.”

The blond, wary, got up from the bed and sat down across from his father. “Is something wrong?”

“Not… particularly,” Lucius said. “Remember what we discussed in the summer, Draco?”

He did not want to remember. “Yes,” he said after a moment of hesitation.

“You will be needed for a task soon,” he stated. Draco felt his blood run cold. “The Dark Lord needs something to be done. I’m not sure what yet. But I can convince him that you are worthy of it.”

He stared at his father fearfully. “I… I don’t want to hurt anyone.” Especially not Harry.

“Did none of what I told you in the summer get into your head?” Lucius stormed, raising his voice. “Sacrifices need to be made for the Dark Lord to succeed. You’re letting your emotions overcome you. What is it about Hogwarts? Every few months you need to be told the same things again. Do you need to be reminded-”

“No,” he said quickly. “No. I understand, Father. When the time comes, I will help.” He had learnt to sound genuine when he said these things. 

“If you-” he stopped, taking in a deep breath. “I understand if you are afraid, Draco,” he said in a calmer tone. “But this isn’t something to be afraid of. You’ll soon understand what opportunities I’m granting us.”

Opportunities? Or time in Azkaban? Draco kept his thoughts to himself, nodding. His expression was unreadable, and he hoped he seemed at least somewhat composed in front of him.

“...Alright, good,” Lucius nodded. He stood up. “I will leave you to it, then. Come down early for your Christmas presents tomorrow.”

He watched him reach for the door, and at the last moment, he spoke. “If I was in Harry’s place…”

Lucius turned around, looking at him questioningly.

“As in, if the Dark Lord was after me,” he explained, trying to tread carefully, “for whatever reason… would you sacrifice me for him?”

His father’s cold eyes bored into his soul. There was complete silence, until finally, he spoke in his usual icy tone. “Don’t ask me such ridiculous things, Draco,” he said finally and left rather swiftly.

It was only natural that he was asked to be a Death Eater. Practically his whole family was. It was the most logical thing, and he knew it was bound to happen. This wasn’t something to mope over, or to be hurt by.

What hurt Draco the most is that his father didn’t say no.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I posted a chapter just yesterday but... oops


	9. Chapter 9

Hermione and Ron didn’t question the shift in Harry’s behavior. He had been fine Christmas day, but the whole week after, he went back to barely talking to anyone. They didn’t want to keep prying. He had already seemed tired of their worrying.

As they entered Hogwarts Express to return to school, Harry kept an eye out for Draco. Had something happened? This was strange. Even for whatever reason Draco had stopped writing poems, he wouldn’t ignore his letter, would he?

Draco was seated beside Pansy once again, only this time, as Harry walked past, when their eyes met, he quickly looked away. Harry embarrassedly averted his gaze, quickening his pace. Hermione and Ron followed after, both giving Draco a disgusted look as they passed.

“What happened to eye-fucking?” Pansy asked as soon as they left, turning to look at him, concerned. “Did you guys talk during the holidays?”

“It was a bad idea,” he said.

“What was?” she asked, frowning, edging closer to him. “Did something happen, Draco? I heard your mother was sick-”

“I don’t see how it’s your business, but she’s fine,” he said firmly, expression hardening.

“Talk to me, Draco,” she said in a soft tone, placing her hand on his shoulder. “I’m on your side here. You know I love her. I’m only worried.”

He felt his eyes sting with tears. “She’s deaf,” his voice was quiet. He was grateful that they were the only ones in this carriage. “She fell really sick last year, and now she’s deaf. It was something to do with her eardrums.”

Pansy stood up and shut the blinds so that anyone passing by wouldn’t be able to look inside. She sat back down beside him. “I’m sorry,” she spoke finally, running her hand up and down his arm. “But I’m sure Harry would understand this, right?”

“It’s not about that,” he shook his head. “The Dark Lord is back, as you know. It’s just… complicated with my family right now. Apparently, we need to prepare for his return…”

Pansy kept her eyes on him, as if she didn’t know what to say.

“...it was stupid to let myself start liking him, wasn’t it? I was stupid,” he mumbled, resting his head against the window as he watched the mountains. “Of all the people, I had to go for the person that I’m supposed to hate the most. It was dumb.”

“So, that’s it? The first time I see you smile in months; genuinely smile, and you’re letting go of him already?”

“Pansy, if anyone in my family found out about us… it wouldn’t be only me in danger, but Harry as well. Besides, I should back out while I’m ahead,” he stated. “You were right, you know. We are star crossed lovers. Meaning there’s no point in it.”

She stared at him for a moment, then smacked the back of his head. “I get it. Your family doesn’t like him. But why should you let that determine how you feel about him hmm? Since when are you a follower?”

He blinked. “Do you think I want this, Pansy? I’m trying to protect both mine and Harry’s lives here. This isn’t a joke. If the Dark Lord is really back… we’d be at opposite sides of a war. What don’t you understand?”

“You have a choice here,” she said. 

“I’ve made my choice.”

A week passed. Draco ignored Harry’s presence, didn’t send any more poems, and nor did he show up on Friday. Harry, too humiliated, had only waited for fifteen minutes this time. Did Draco really just play with his feelings? But the poems he had sent in the holidays sounded so genuine…

Harry entered the Great Hall on Saturday morning, practically slamming his textbook on the table. Hermione and Ron exchanged glances, but didn’t say anything. 

He glanced over to the Slytherin table, where Draco was laughing and talking with Pansy, Blaise and some other friends. Their eyes met and Harry’s expression was somewhat confused yet also pissed, and he quickly looked away. He needed to talk to Draco one way or another.

After breakfast, Harry took his time to get back to the Gryffindor Common Room - it wasn’t as if he had anything to do.

“Harry,” Pansy called out, then shook her head at her stupidity, quickly tapping him on the shoulder. He turned around, and for some reason, he had been hoping it was Draco. He frowned when he looked at her. “Do you have a minute?”

Looking around, he nodded slowly when he noticed Draco was nowhere in sight. After making sure everyone was gone, they both quickly slipped into a broom closet. “Um… why do you need to talk to me?” he asked finally. He couldn’t recall a time where he and Pansy had ever even spoken properly, but what he knew was that she wasn’t the type to insult or be rude to him.

“You can understand me, right?” she asked, making sure to enunciate. Harry nodded, and she smiled. “Right, so… Draco wants to see you. At six.”

He looked at her, somewhat confused. He didn’t know how much Draco had told her, so decided to play dumb just in case. “Malfoy… wants to see-”

“He told me everything,” she smiled slightly. “You don’t need to pretend. I know you’ve been helping him with sign language.”

“Hmm. So do you know why he’s been avoiding me?” he asked, his eyes lighting up slightly. She winced, unsure of how much she should let on, and how much she should leave for them to talk about by themselves. She cleared her throat awkwardly, already knowing that it was a risk she was doing this. 

“I really think it’s better if you talk to him today,” she said, shaking her head. What threw Harry off was she seemed genuine, unlike what he had noticed before. “Go wherever you usually meet. He’ll be waiting.”

“...Alright,” he said.

***

When Harry entered the Room of Requirement, he noticed Draco was already sitting at the table. He looked up as the other entered, and the two stared at each other until Harry made his way to the table.

“Um… Pansy said you wanted to see me,” Harry said.

Draco looked at him, a confused expression on her face, then cursed under his breath. “Pansy told me that you wanted to talk to me,” he shook his head in disbelief. “I did think it was strange that you asked her instead of just sending me a letter, but… whatever."

He stayed silent for a moment. “So there’s really nothing you want to say to me?”

The blond looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “Is there-”

“Yes?” Harry folded his arms. “Like… I don’t know, how you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I wouldn’t go as far to say avoiding. I mean-”

“So… you throw my hearing aids into the lake. I earn three weeks in detention because of you. Then when I finally think I’m ready to move on from it, you ask me to teach you sign language for a relative you say you don’t even care about, then… then you get mad I kiss a girl, and then you kiss me yourself. You send me these poems that make me blush and smile, and now you won’t even look at my face. If that’s not avoiding me, then I don’t know what is.”

Harry was speaking so fast that he didn’t even bother to sign, his face starting to turn red. He didn’t know if he was even comprehensible, but he didn’t care.

Draco kept his eyes on Harry, frowning. He took in a deep breath, then finally opened his mouth. “I thought it over,” he said slowly. “My feelings. You. My family. The Dark Lord.”

There was a pause, as if Draco was thinking of the right words to say. Now that he was here, in this moment, it was much harder to push him away. Maybe it was the way Harry looked like his heart was breaking, or maybe because he looked close to tears. Or maybe it was because Draco had never felt so strongly for someone before, and didn’t want to push away someone who made him want to be a better person.

“You know,” he said, standing up, “we’re practically on opposite sides of a war.”

Harry sat down on the floor, too worried his knees would give away. “War… war-” he gulped, trying to blink away tears. He knew this already. Why did it hurt so much to hear from Draco? “But…"

“I admit, what I did was stupid,” Draco said, sitting down across from Harry on the floor. “Avoiding your letters. But I’ve realized that we can’t do this, you and me. I don’t- I don’t want to be in a position where I have to choose between you and my family. I didn’t think it through.” 

It was quiet for a moment, and Harry looked down at his hands as he played with them, trying not to give away how shitty he felt. “Did you like me at all?” he mumbled, standing up. He had to leave. It was bad enough that he was practically being rejected. He didn’t want Draco to see him cry, too.

“Harry, it’s not about that,” Draco raised his voice, starting to grow somewhat impatient. “You and I could _both_ lose our lives. Is it really worth the risk?”

“Worth the risk,” Harry echoed, nodding, as if he understood now. He reached into his pocket, taking out a small box and slamming it on the desk forcefully. “No, I suppose it’s not.” 

“What’s this?” he asked, looking down at the box questioningly.

“A Christmas present,” he replied. “I wanted to thank you for everything.”

Draco frowned, unsure of what to say. He was holding himself back, unsure if it was from hugging Harry or crying. Either way, he shook his head. “I can’t take this, Harry,” he said quietly. 

“No,” Harry snapped, tears in his eyes. “It’s tainted now. I don’t want to look at it. You can throw it away. I, uh… I don’t want to look at it.” 

With that, he left.  
  


Hours later, in his dorm, Draco stared down at the box, wondering what it could possibly be. He was almost afraid to open it. With trembling hands, he opened the blue velvet box. Inside was a small piece of paper and a bracelet with two charms. One was a silver bird and the other was a music note.

Draco stroked his finger gently over the bird charm, then unfolded the note.

_Dear Draco,_

_I’m not sure what’s wrong, but I found this store on my way from St Mungo’s Hospital. I got you this charm bracelet, just as a way to thank you for your help. I would’ve been so behind this year without you. Other than that, I just want to thank you for being my friend. Five years late or whatever, but yeah._

_The bird, it reminded me of the one from your poem. You know, about the bird. And the music note because of the singing. It’s odd right? You don’t have to wear it. I just thought of you when I saw the two charms._

_Merry Christmas_

_Harry_

He put it on his left wrist, staring down at the tiny bird. It was a thoughtful, meaningful present. The bracelet actually suited him. He decided to keep it. It was too pretty to throw away.

The image of Harry’s teary eyes came into his mind, and he felt regret flood through his chest. It bit at him, almost like a stabbing pain. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Harry again, and that was exactly what he did. He almost wanted to go to Harry and tell him that they could be together, but he knew he couldn’t. It was too risky for both of them.

What he felt for Harry was unlike anything before, which was probably why it frightened him even more. He didn’t want the first person he actually liked to be in danger all because of him and his family. He knew his upcoming responsibilities and didn’t want to hurt Harry. But… what if Pansy was right? What if he would be missing out on something great? What if he didn’t _have_ to be a Death Eater? 

He could only dream.

***

“That bracelet looks nice,” Pansy smiled as she sat down beside him in the Great Hall. “Did someone get it for you for Christmas?”

Draco looked down at his wrist, quickly pulling his sweater over it. “Um… yeah. Harry gave it to me. I know I shouldn’t, but…” he paused. “Speaking of which, why did you set us up like that? I… wasn’t prepared for it.”

“Because I knew if I left it up to you, you would never talk to him about it. You would just avoid it and never give him an explanation,” she sighed. “Other than that...I hoped you two would have been able to sort things out.”

“We did,” he said. “I told him I didn’t want to risk anything. He gave me this and left.”

“That’s not sorting things out!” she snapped.

“Yes it is. I told him my feelings and how I felt. He should respect that.”

She shook her head at him, then sighed. She had meddled enough. She didn’t want Draco to get mad, nor did she want to pressure him into anything “Well… if you feel that’s best, then I suppose I support that.”

The rest of the week went by painfully slow, and Draco had not realized until now how many classes he and Harry actually had in common. It was strange to go back to not talking daily. He found himself thinking of things to write in a poem for Harry, only to remember poems weren’t necessary anymore.

At night, thoughts of Harry consumed him. Was this the right choice? Was Pansy right? What he knew was that this was bigger than him. It was something out of his control. 

On Friday morning, Harry woke up after a rough night. He hadn’t been able to fall asleep. There were too many thoughts circling in his mind. It was hard to do anything this past week.

Breakfast was boring and lonely as usual. Everyone was having a conversation and Harry had decided long ago he was ‘too deaf’ to engage in them. He left before anyone else was even done with his breakfast.

By the looks of it, Draco was really taking all of this seriously. He was pretending that Harry didn’t even exist, which hurt more than he thought it would. His words would randomly come into his head: ‘worth the risk’. Was Draco worth the risk? More importantly, why did Draco think that Harry wasn’t worth the risk?

He made his way to Potions, unsure of what to do anymore. On top of these feelings he had to get rid of, he was worried about Voldemort. Maybe in that sense, Draco was right. As a Malfoy, he would be expected to be a Death Eater.

“We will be brewing the Draught of Peace today,” Snape announced. “I expect you all to know the ingredients already, as we covered it last lesson. Get into pairs before I do it myself.”

Harry turned to Hermione and Ron, who winced. He tried not to cringe in embarrassment. Well, of course those two would want to work together. Who would want to work with the deaf kid? “Er… alright, Harry, I’ll work with you,” Hermione said, but the look on her face made it seem like she was being asked to do a chore. 

“No, it’s fine. You can work with Ron,” he said. “I’ll find someone…” he looked around the Gryffindor side, pursing his lips when he noticed everyone was in pairs already. He jumped when Snape tapped him on the shoulder.

“No partner, Mr. Potter?” He asked, glancing over to Ron and Hermione who were awkwardly moving to get the ingredients they needed. 

“Um… no,” he replied.

He sighed and looked around, then nodded. “Go work with Mr. Malfoy.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Malfoy,” Snape repeated agitatedly. “Go.” 

“For fuck’s sake,” he whispered under his breath as Snape practically dragged him to where Draco was standing, who looked up, raising an eyebrow as he looked at both of them.

“Oh, uh… I thought it was an odd number, so I was going to work alone,” Draco explained. 

“You two, work together. For the sake of my sanity, be civilized with each other,” he snapped, then quickly walked away. Harry, annoyed, readjusted his robes and set down the Potions textbook in his hands.

After a moment of awkward silence, Draco decided it was better to just pretend nothing happened. “Um… alright,” He started to sign. “I’ll brew the potion. You tell me the ingredients.”

“Why can’t I brew it?” Harry asked.

“Well, because I’m much better at Potions than you,” he said with a small shrug. Harry scoffed in response, but didn’t say anything, flipping over to the page. “How much of this powdered moonstone is-”

Harry kicked his foot suddenly, trying to casually make it seem as if he had just stepped closer to the cauldron in front of them. 

“Um, _ouch_ ,” he yelped dramatically. “What was that for?”

“Stop signing,” the other said. Draco followed his gaze, which was to Hermione and Ron, who were both staring at him suspiciously. “Just talk to me normally. I can lip-read.”

“...right,” he nodded, trying not to seem caught off guard. So Harry really hadn’t told anyone about the two of them. This was surprising mainly because from Draco’s understanding, Harry was really close with Ron and Hermione. 

After adding a few ingredients, Harry noticed the cauldron was filling up and sighed irritatedly. “Can you pull up your sleeves?” he reached forward and grabbed Draco’s hands, yanking up the sleeves of his robes and shirt, stopping when he noticed the bracelet on his wrist.

Draco, who had been trying to avoid this very situation, embarrassedly pulled his hand away, taking off his robe and putting it to the side. He cleared his throat then nodded. “...right, the next ingredient?” he asked, lowering his hand and trying to hide it.

Harry, who was still taken aback, gulped, then turned back to his textbook. “Um, right… seven drops of hellebore.”

Draco picked up the vial of hellebore, using his right hand instead so they wouldn’t have to look at the bracelet. There was silence until Harry gasped. “You put ten drops! It said to put exactly seven-”

“I’m sure it’s fine, Potter,” he shook his head. The two stared at each other, unsure, then peeked into the cauldron to look at the potion, which exploded in their faces. Liquid went everywhere and everyone in the room looked up, surprised by the noise. 

Draco and Harry both took a few steps back from the cauldron, then turned to look at each other. The potion was still somewhat of a light green slime and now it was on their faces. There were a few quiet snickers. Harry quickly looked away, trying to hide his smile.

Draco nudged him. “...don’t laugh at me! You should’ve stopped me!” 

“Why did you put so many drops in the first place?” Harry retaliated. “I said seven!” 

“How is this-” 

Snape came into view. “...Twenty points from Gryffindor and ten from Slytherin. Now go get cleaned up before I give you detention,” he said, giving them both a deathly stare. The two quickly nodded and left for the bathroom in silence. 

They washed the liquidy slime off of their faces. Draco was done before Harry, but found himself waiting for him. The two stood there for a moment too long, until Draco finally spoke. “...you have some in your hair,” he mumbled while signing. 

Harry put a hand to his hair. “Where?”

The silver-eyed boy stepped towards the sink, gathering some water in his hand and rubbing it over the spot in Harry’s hair. “It’s easier if I do it,” he said when he noticed Harry staring at him, wide-eyed.

“Why didn’t you throw away the bracelet?” he asked. Harry felt Draco’s hand against his head slow down. 

“Well… I don’t see a reason to. It was given as a gift, was it not?” Draco asked in a defensive tone. He looked down at Harry, who looked at him as if he didn’t believe him one bit. “Shut up.” 

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I know, I just… yeah, I like the bracelet okay? It’s not as if… this is the first time I’ve received a meaningful gift or anything,” he replied, wiping his hand against the towel. “We should get back.”

Harry watched him walk towards the exit, then finally spoke. “One month,” he blurted loudly. Draco stopped, turning to look at him, eyebrows knitted.

“What?”

“You want to see if this…” he walked closer to Draco, “was worth the risk, right?” Harry tried not to show his trembling hands, chewing on his lip nervously. He didn’t even know what he was saying, nor had he thought it through. But his gut feeling was telling him to go with it. 

The blond nodded slightly, looking at Harry suspiciously. “I guess,” he folded his arms.

“So… uh… be with me for one month. Now, I’m not sure if it could work out either. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to try. Draco, I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. Not to this extent.”

He looked down, frowning. “Harry, I told you, I don’t want to be in a position where-”

“Look,” his voice was shaky, “I know that out there, you have to be a Malfoy and I have to be Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. But… when we’re in that room, away from the rest of the world, it feels like I’m just Harry, and you’re just Draco. And it feels like everything will be okay again.”

“Harry…”

“It’s fine if you don’t want to,” he said. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m forcing you to do anything.”

Draco stood still, looking anywhere but into Harry’s eyes, then finally spoke. He wanted badly to say yes, but his brain was telling him to think logically. “What if we find that it’s not worth the risk?”

The brunet hesitantly reached forward and took his hand. His heart was racing and his cheeks were flushed. He was being bold for someone who had just been rejected. “Then we go back to being Malfoy and Potter.”

“And you’d be okay with that?” he asked, his eyes stinging with tears when he noticed Harry’s trembling hands. Gulping, he held his hands with both of his own in an attempt to steady them. “We’d have to go back to being enemies.”

“That’s… fine,” he said, shaking his head. “As long as I know that we tried.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Harry,” he whispered, holding back tears. “Pushing you away feels awful.”

“Then don’t,” he urged. “Be with me. One month.”

Draco held onto his hand tighter, pushing any sensibility he had aside. He pushed away the thought of his father, and whatever task he would be asked to do soon. All that mattered to him in his moment was what Harry had said to him, because he was right. They would be stupid not to try, right?

“Okay,” he nodded, putting his hand to the other’s cheek. “One month.”

And before he knew it, Harry was kissing him.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys I'm sorry I feel like this chapter is awful but I wanted a chapter to be out :((
> 
> thank you so much for all the love recently!! <33
> 
> Oh, also, thank you so much for 100 kudos!!
> 
> \- malfoypolix


	10. Chapter 10

That Friday evening, Harry managed to get past the Gryffindor Common Room and entered the Room of Requirement, a smile appearing on his face when he saw Draco sitting there already. 

“Hey,” he greeted, sitting down across from him on the table. They hadn’t spoken since they had kissed in the bathroom then awkwardly went back to Potions, where they had to clean up the mess that they had made. It was harder to hide their smiles, however, no one seemed to notice nor care.

Draco nodded at him. “How was dinner?” 

“Boring. Ron and Hermione asked me why you knew some sign language. I just asked them how I was supposed to know that,” he shrugged, getting out his books. “Oh, by the way, how did it go with your relative?”

He stared at him for a moment, blinking in surprise. “Oh, right. It went well. She- He was really shocked that I knew sign language. But…” he trailed off into silence, thinking about how the mood had been ruined because of his father, then shook his head.

“But...?”

“Ah, nothing. Just… my father ruined the mood. I mean, it’s not as if Malfoy Manor is particularly lively, but I don’t know. I was hoping for something different this time,” Draco said, looking down at the table. “But enough about me. How was your holiday?”

“Sucky,” Harry said, studying Draco’s expression before explaining. “Some people think I’m being possessed by Voldemort.”

He flinched at the sound of his name, eyes widening when he processed what he said. “Possessed?” he echoed, frowning. He tried to hide how uncomfortable he felt, knowing it wouldn’t help the situation. “Well… are you?”

“No,” he sighed. “At least, I don’t think so. I’ve just… been getting these visions. It makes it hard for me to sleep.” Draco reached forward and held his hand carefully, as if he was afraid to do so, but Harry squeezed his hand in return, looking down at the books in front of him. “And I have these dreams - no, nightmares… never mind.”

He knew better than to press on, instead stroked Harry’s hand. “Don’t feel like working?” he asked finally, unsure of what else to say. This was new territory once again, and the last thing he wanted to do was mess it up.

“No. I mean, it’d be an awful first date, right? A study date… yuck,” Harry said, grinning.

“Oh,” Draco gulped, nodding. “I suppose you’re right. Then should we go on a real date tomorrow?”

He looked at him, taken aback. What surprised him the most was that Draco actually seemed dead serious. “Draco, I was joking,” he said, letting go of his hand quickly, feeling his face warm up. 

“Well, I’m not,” he replied, an amused look on his face. “You do know how relationships work, right? Do you even know what a date is?”

“Shut up,” he snapped, trying not to grin. “A date. Wow.”

“Yeah, I’m not entirely convinced-” he laughed when Harry smacked him on the shoulder. “Okay, just meet me here tomorrow morning. Everyone’s going to Hogsmeade anyway, so we can spend the day together.”

He opened his mouth to agree, then remembered the DA. “Er… I can spend the morning with you, but not the afternoon. I have… some work to do.”

“Oh, right,” Draco said suddenly, eyes lighting up as he remembered. “Umbridge was telling us about some stupid suspicion she had about you. When do you need to go?”

“About one p.m.?”

“Okay, then meet me here tomorrow at eight,” he shrugged. Harry narrowed his eyes and Draco looked at him questioningly, confused by the look he was getting. “What, is it too early for you or…?”

“No, no, eight is good. I just… you’re not asking me about whatever it is I need to do?” he asked.

“You’d tell me if you wanted me to know,” he said. “Besides, it’s better if I don’t know since I’m supposed to be reporting any information I get to Umbridge.”

“Thank you. Merlin, how can you even stand her?”

“I can’t,” he shook his head. “The bullshit she says makes me want to cave my own head in.”

The two exchanged a small smile, and with that, their Saturday plans had been made. 

***

Draco was pacing up and down his empty room, glancing over to his bed which had an enormous pile of clothes that he had tried on. It hurt to look at, but for once, that was the least of his concern. He looked up, relieved to see Pansy entering the room, seeming just as rattled as him.

“Fear not,” she declared, holding her head high, “I’m here.”

The two stared at each other until she squealed loudly. “Okay! I’m freaking out! I didn’t prepare for this!” she admitted, seeming as if she was actually quite disappointed with herself. “I should’ve seen this coming. Of course Harry would’ve been able to convince you-”

“Stop! I need to meet him in thirty minutes! Just… help me!” he whined, gesturing to all the clothes on his bed. “What do I wear?”

“Clothes,” she replied, yelping when he hit her shoulder weakly. “Just wear a sweater and these jeans.” She picked up his black jeans, holding it against his waist to see how it would fit him. “How come you never wear this?”

Draco stared down at the pair of jeans, wondering if it would fit him. It had been so long since he had even looked at them. “My father doesn’t like it when I wear jeans. He said it’s too casual and…” he trailed off into silence. Lucius had told him he had not looked good in them.

“Try them on,” Pansy said, holding it out to him. He took it, but winced. “Seriously. Your father clearly doesn’t have any fashion taste. Just try it. I’ll be honest with you.” She turned around so he could change. Once he did, he tapped her on the shoulder, avoiding her gaze. “Draco! It looks great! Here, try this sweater with it.”

He stared at the sweater. “I…” 

“Are you alright?” she asked. When he didn’t answer, she took his hands, guiding him to the bed. “Nervous?”

“Very,” he said, letting go of her hands and shaking his as if to shake off the jitters. “I just don’t want to mess up. It feels like all I do is hurt him. I’d really like to avoid doing that as much as I can.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “I understand. But also remember that he likes the honest version of you. Don’t try to be someone else. Don’t show him a facade. I think that’s what hurts him the most.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Wow. When did you become so wise?”

“Right?” she laughed, then stood up, handing him the sweater. “I trust you won’t fuck up your date?”

“I’ll try not to.” 

Meanwhile, Harry was at the Great Hall with Hermione, who had for some reason, woken up early. He thought he would’ve been able to sneak away like previous Saturday mornings, but it almost seemed as if she had been waiting for him in the Common Room today.

“You’re not eating?” Hermione asked. Harry winced. Him and Draco had decided to go on a picnic deep in the forest, away from everyone. It was the only option they really had. “Come on, eat something at least.”

“Uh…” he picked up a piece of toast, taking a small bite out of it. He felt her heavy gaze on him, then sighed. “I’m not hungry.”

“Why not?”

“You ought to ask my body that question, not me,” he shrugged. “Anyway, I’m going to go study-” he took in a sharp breath when she grabbed the back of his sweater, pulling him back. She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Studying? On a Saturday morning? Even I can’t force you to do that,” she said, eyeing him suspiciously. She opened her mouth, seeming as if she was debating on what to say. “Do you have a girlfriend, Harry?”

“Do I have a girlfriend,” he repeated rather mockingly, smiling awkwardly. “What kind of question is that?”

“A question I’d like answered. Am I wrong?” she asked.

“Of course you’re wrong! Like I’ve said before, which girl would want to date me? I’m lucky if people even. find me tolerable nowadays.”

“You’re selling yourself short. You know plenty of girls like you,” she said.

“I don’t want them to like me,” he responded. She kept a stony gaze on him until he shrugged. “I’m going to study, alright? I’ll be back by lunch.”

“Who studies for that long? That’s-” she checked her watch, then looked up, only to see that he was already walking away. “...five hours,” she finished, frowning. Why was he so far away recently? Could it be about Voldemort? She felt as if she had somehow failed Harry.

***

Draco looked up when he saw the door open. It was five minutes past eight and Harry seemed out of breath. He raised an eyebrow. “Did you forget?” he asked, smiling slightly, rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans.

“No,” he said after he caught his breath. “Hermione was questioning me. I had to lie and run away before she made me tell her the truth.

“Is there something wrong with her knowing?” Draco asked, looking at him inquisitively. “I mean, she’d probably come attack me or something if she found out, so I’m glad you didn’t tell her.”

He chuckled. “No, it’s just… I don’t expect her to understand. Besides, she really hates you even more because of the whole incident with the hearing aids.”

“I don’t blame her,” he nodded, standing up and picking up his bag. “Should we go?”

“Oh, yeah,” Harry said, taking out his Invisibility Cloak. “We should be under this until we leave the castle. You know, just in case we see Umbridge or a prefect. By the way, how are we going to have a picnic if we don’t have any food?” The two watched as a basket appeared on the table in front of them. 

“Well, that answers it,” Draco gazed in amusement, opening the basket to see a bunch of snacks inside. They left the Room of Requirement. He felt Harry’s hand on his shoulder, slightly startled. The cloak felt weird on him, and he just followed Harry’s movement. To their luck, there were only a few students walking in the hallway, presumably to breakfast, not aware of the two under the cloak.

When they reached the entrance of the Forbidden Forest, Harry took the cloak off them, looking in, then turned to Draco. “Nervous?” the silver-eyed boy asked, and the other rolled his eyes, smiling.

“I’ve faced the Dark Lord. I think I can handle a forest,” he said, striding into the Forest, yet as Draco caught up to him, he grabbed a hold of his hand. Draco stared down at their hands, lips twitching in amusement. “I can hold the basket. You’re holding your own bag anyway-”

“I got it,” Draco said. “Don’t worry.”

They walked in silence. Draco found himself glancing over to Harry again and again, who was looking around, admiring the trees as they walked. It was strange to be like this. Quiet, calm, almost soothing. Usually, they’d either be bickering or in some sort of uncomfortable tense silence. 

“I like your outfit,” Harry spoke finally. Draco looked over at him, looking at him as if he didn’t believe him. “I’m serious. I like it,” he said, using his free hand to tug at his sweater gently.

“Oh, well,” he gulped, at a loss for words, “...thank you.”

“I’m a bit hungry,” he said, reaching forward and grabbing the basket from Draco’s hands.

“Hey-”

“Crisps!” Harry exclaimed excitedly, taking out the packet, snickering when Draco grabbed the basket from his hands, glaring at him. “What? I skipped breakfast for this date. I think it’s only fair I get to eat on the way.”

“That defeats the whole purpose-” he was shut up by Harry who stuffed a crisp into his mouth. “I could’ve choked, I hope you realize!” the two stared at each other as they continued walking. Draco cleared his throat. “What flavor is that? It’s not bad.”

Harry grinned, taking another crisp and putting it in his mouth. “It’s so good! Now I finally have some energy.”

As they finally settled on a place to eat, Draco spread out the blanket as the other scavenged into the basket, taking out a bunch of food. He sat back and watched Harry do so.

“Hey, so… has Cho talked to you recently?” he asked. Harry looked at him, narrowing his eyes. “I just mean… she might think there’s something between you two."

“Well, you kissed me and could avoid me perfectly fine, why couldn’t she do the same-” he pushed away Draco’s hand that was reaching to smack him, laughing. “Kidding, kidding! Anyway, like I said, she only kissed me because she was feeling sad about Cedric.”

“Well, you could be sad about Cedric too. I don’t see you kissing anyone.”

“She was his girlfriend, it’s different,” he shook his head, taking a sandwich and breaking it in half, handing Draco the other one as he bit into it. “Besides, I’ve tried to push it aside. At least she’s in touch with her emotions.”

“I’m sure it’s not good to bottle them up,” Draco tilted his head, biting into his half of the sandwich. He hadn’t expected the conversation to turn in this direction. “I know that’s probably a dumb thing to say, considering the whole Wizarding World doesn’t believe you, but you don’t need to hide it. He was your friend.”

“I think of him sometimes,” Harry admitted. “It’s small things. I see someone smile and think of him, or I walk past the prefect’s bathroom, or I have a dream… it’s all weird. I know my life is crazy, Draco, I do. But I never expected someone to die because of me. If I had known… I wouldn’t have…”

“You couldn’t have known,” he said quietly, edging closer to him. “Don’t blame yourself for it. I know it’s easy for me to say it, but…” he paused. “Oh, right,” he dug into his bag and got out a small box. “I got you some chamomile tea. It helps with sleep. You were saying it was hard for you to sleep, so…”

Harry took the box, opening it and seeing a bunch of tea bags inside. “Draco, you didn’t have to.”

“I don’t really know the extent of the nightmares or visions, and I know these won’t help them go away, but-” he tried not to fall backwards onto the grass as Harry hugged him tightly. “Wow. Wasn’t expecting that,” he said as he hugged him back.

“It’s enough that you were listening, but you also did this…” Harry was smiling as he pulled away, his face flushed. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Draco said, smiling awkwardly, unsure of how to behave in front of him. He busied himself with his sandwich, keeping his eyes down.

“By the way,” he said as he set the box aside and watched Draco. “You shouldn’t beat yourself up over the incident anymore.”

“Well, have you forgiven me yet?”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “Why does that matter?”

“Because if the answer’s no, it means it still hurts you, and that makes me feel awful.”

He shut his eyes, breathing in the crisp air. Despite it being mid-January, today was a warmer day than most. “It’s not as if it changed anything. The hearing aids wouldn’t have worked either way.”

“Still. It was my intention behind it.”

Harry took his hand gently. “I forgive you,” he said after a moment of silence. “Don’t let it bother you anymore.” He felt the gentle breeze against his skin and breathed in deeply, smiling when he felt Draco squeeze his hand. “It’d be a wonderful day to just ride on your broom, don’t you think?”

“It’s a bit chilly,” the blond replied, using his free hand to sign. “But we can go for a ride.”

“We can’t,” he pouted. “My Firebolt is still with Umbridge, remember? Banned because I’m deaf… whatever.”

“Right,” he nodded. He remembered the first match of the season. Umbridge had deemed Harry unfit to play due to not being able to hear just before the match. He had caused a fuss and in result she had taken his broom as a punishment. In result, the Slytherins had won. “She’s a bitch.” He took out his wand and murmured a spell. 

“What are you doing?” Harry asked. He followed Draco’s gaze, who was looking at the broom that was flying at them at top speed. Draco stood up and grabbed it, then turned to look at him.

“Hop on, Potter.”

“You’re serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Draco asked, getting on the broom. Warily, Harry got on as well. “Just hold on to me tightly,” he said, taking Harry’s arms and putting it around his body. Before he could register what was happening, they were up in the sky. 

The air up there was colder, but he didn’t mind. He found himself smiling as he looked into the distance, seeing the castle. He tightened his grip around Draco, who was picking up the speed. The wind against his skin was rough yet freeing, almost as if he needed this. 

As they reached the lake, Draco went downwards, closer to the water. 

“Are you mad?!” Harry screeched as their shoes were dipped into the ocean. He felt Draco laughing as they went back up. “You’re crazy,” he breathed as he twirled the broom around, going in loops as well as upside down. 

Draco turned back to look at him. “Relax,” he grinned as they turned, going towards the lake again. Harry let out a shaky breath, this time using his right hand to touch the water as they went past. He could feel his stomach drop as they went high and low, both laughing hysterically. It was thrilling. 

And best of all, Harry had forgotten about the weight on his shoulders, forgotten that he was deaf, the nightmares, the visions, and the nightmares. It felt free to be here with Draco, and he didn’t feel guilty about Cedric. 

When they finally reached the ground, Draco slowly got off the broom, turning around to look at him, a wide grin on his face. “How’s my flying skills-” he was cut off by Harry, who pounced on him, kissing him fiercely. Draco was knocked backwards onto the grass. He groaned in pain and Harry pulled away.

“Sorry,” he panted, looking down at him. “Did I take you by surprise-”

Draco put his arms around Harry’s neck and pulled him down, closing the space between their lips. The kiss was fiery, fervent, fantastic. Draco's lips were soft, practically aching for him. Maybe it was the way the leaves were gently rustling, or the quiet atmosphere of the forest, or the way Draco was kissing him.

Maybe it was because of the blond that walked him all the way back to the Gryffindor Common Room afterwards, or maybe it was the poem he had sent later that night, or maybe it was because Harry found the kiss lingering on his lips long after the date was over, or maybe it was because for the first time in weeks, he had slept peacefully; but this time, it truly did feel like things would be okay again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS I'm so sorry for a late update! I had the worst block and I couldn't write. I hope you liked this chapter! Merry Christmas!


	11. Chapter 11

_I get lost in your kaleidoscopic eyes_

_When I’m with you, time flies_

_This feeling in my chest, tingling,_

_This song in my head, singing_

_The thought of your lips against mine,_

_Feeling our hearts intertwine,_

_It’s enough for me to feel okay again_

_God that was a bit cringe wasn’t it? Sorry. I was thinking of something else to write about but I could only think of you. Wow, even that sounded horrific. Sorry._

_Goodnight,_

_d.m._

“Another letter, huh?” Ron said as he sidled up beside Harry, grabbing the letter from his hands. His eyes lit up as he read the first few lines of the poem, almost as if he was excited. “I get lost in-”

“Hey!” Harry snapped, snatching the letter back. “No one said you could read it.”

“I didn’t see the whole thing. Who’s D?” he raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Are there any Gryffindors that have a name from D?” he gasped. “Is it Dean?”

He rolled his eyes. “No one said anything about a Gryffindor,” he pointed out, then instantly regretted it. “Forget it. You’re not going to be able to guess.”

“...Daphne Greengrass?” Ron asked.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Harry scoffed, folding the note and putting it on his bedside table, unsure of what to say. “You know, yesterday… I wasn’t studying. I, uh… I was on a date with someone.”

“Daphne?” he repeated, yelping when he smacked him. “Kidding! But come on, I’m your best mate! Was it Cho?”

“No, it wasn’t. I already told you, I don’t like her anymore. If I ever did, I mean…” he trailed off into silence, thinking about Cedric again, then shook his head. “Listen, don’t tell Hermione I have a… girlfriend.”

“Yeah, sure,” he nodded. “She’s still worried about you, you know. Maybe if you tell her you have a girlfriend, it’ll ease her up a bit.”

“Later,” he sighed. “I know she’s going to ask me a billion questions if I tell her. I need to prepare for that kind of thing.”

The two exchanged a small smile.

“How was your date, lovebird?” Pansy asked as she entered the dorm. “You avoided me all evening yesterday!” 

“Only because you were going to press me for answers! I still needed to process everything that happened,” Draco exclaimed, but there was no hiding it. The date had gone extremely well, and what gave away this was his wide grin. “I can’t stop smiling.” 

“I can tell. It’s a bit creepy, actually,” she commented, then flopped down beside him. “Tell me everything.”

After Draco had told her everything, if possible, his grin was even wider than before. “It was perfect. I wasn’t sure if it would go well, you know, considering we couldn’t possibly do what normal couples do, but… we made it work.”

“So you two are keeping it a secret?”

“I think we’d end up on the first page of the Daily Prophet if we don’t. Besides, it’s safer for both him and me to not tell anyone. I think you’re the only one who knows about us, so…”

“Yeah, well, that’s understandable. And do you also feel like an idiot for giving up on the relationship so easily?” 

Draco folded his arms, his expression darkening. He had forgotten about the bad things for a moment. “There are still responsibilities waiting for me, Pansy. I just didn’t want to be in a situation where I would hurt him again."

She took his hand. “Just be honest when it happens. Whatever it is that you’re dreading. If you guys work through it together it’d be easier.”

“Yeah…” he looked away, trailing off into silence, unsure of how to tell her that being a Death Eater would end their relationship on the spot.

***

“Hello hello,” Harry smiled as he entered the Room of Requirement. “Early as always?” 

“Late as always?” Draco retorted, keeping his eyes on the other as he sat down across from him. “Hey,” he leaned forward, his face all serious. Harry leaned in too, frowning, wondering if there was something wrong on his face.

“Something wrong?” He questioned.

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s just…” he leaned forward, kissing him on the lips quickly, taking Harry by surprise. “I haven’t kissed you in a week, you know.”

“It’s been six days.”

“Goodness! Too long,” Draco said dramatically. “We need to make up for lost time.”

“Yeah, we wouldn’t have to if you didn’t declare me your sworn enemy in first year,” Harry rolled his eyes, but he was blushing. “Come on, then,” he said, leaning forward, his lips mashing against Draco’s, as if the kiss from a moment ago wasn’t enough. He felt Draco smile into the kiss, both pulling away to catch their breaths. 

Harry could feel his heart pounding and Draco’s face was flushed.

“By the way,” the blond said, and Harry could feel a banter coming up. “You’re the one who rejected my handshake, so really, who declared who sworn enemies?”

“Okay, one,” he sat upright, “you were being a dickhead! Who in their right mind would be friends with someone who’s insulting their friend? Two, not accepting your handshake didn’t mean we had to be _enemies_. I never disliked you!”

“It was a handshake of _friendship._ If you reject that, of course it means we have to be enemies!” 

“Just seems like an ego issue to me,” Harry shrugged, smirking. “Did I hurt your ego, love? It’s okay. I can shake your hand now if you like,” he said, holding out his hand, letting out a laugh when Draco, defeated, simply smacked his arm away. 

“Can we get to work now?” Draco asked. 

“Hey, you’re the one who brought it up.”

“I didn’t bring up _anything_ \- you know what? Forget it,” he held his head up high. “I’m just going to read from the textbook. You better get started with your Potions essay. I know you haven’t done it. It’s due on Monday.”

“...would this be a bad time to ask you _what_ Potions essay you’re talking about?”

“Harry!” Draco scolded.

“Draco!” he said back in a completely different tone in an attempt to mock him. “But you’re serious? We had an essay? I’m fucked.”

“...it’s fine, I’ll help you,” the blond said finally, walking over and sitting beside him. “It was an essay on the stupid potion we mucked up… er… Draught of Peace, was it? Yeah, that. He set that last week, you know.”

“I told myself I’d do it later but I procrastinated so much I forgot about it completely.”

Draco rolled his eyes, feeling himself grow impatient. “You can’t do that anymore. You’re already so behind on your studies. Am I supposed to help you with homework or help you understand the concepts?"

Harry looked at him, groaning. “I know,” he admitted. “I don’t suppose you did it as soon as it was set?”

“Well, no, but I did finish it in time, and now I get to relax rather than trying to finish it two days before the due date,” he said, then noticed Harry’s dejected expression. “...it’s alright, I said I’ll help. Just start the introduction, alright?”

Harry tried not to smile, unsure if Draco was aware that he had been running his hand up and down his arm reassuringly. He looked around the room. The walls that were initially grey were now white; the small bookshelf was now big enough to be called a library, the couch had a blanket, and there was a window by the table. 

He averted his gaze to Draco, who cleared his throat. “I’m thirsty. I don’t suppose I could just ask for some tea?” he asked, to which Harry simply shrugged. The two stared at the table in front of them, and suddenly, two cups of piping hot tea appeared. Draco picked up one of them and set it closer to Harry’s reach. “Drink up. I asked for chamomile.”

Harry looked at him for a long moment. He could feel butterflies in his stomach, but he was unsure why. 

“What?” Draco asked, frowning.

“...nothing,” he shook his head, picking up the cup and taking a sip. “You know, um… I really liked the poem you sent me on Saturday.”

“Oh,” Draco scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “It didn’t seem like I was clingy?”

“It was cute. Have you ever considered becoming a poet?”

“There are more important things than being a poet, Harry,” he scoffed. “And I’m nowhere near good,” he gulped. He felt rather uncomfortable to talk about the poems he wrote, especially when they were about Harry. “But… uh… thanks.”

“I think you’re better than most poets out there. You know, you kinda get straight to the point while still managing to have some hidden meanings in there.”

Draco’s face was pink by now. He gripped his cup tightly, unsure why his chest felt so tight. The underlying hope that Harry would enjoy his poems were there, yet to hear him say it was something else entirely. “...forget it,” he replied, shaking his head. “Has the chamomile tea been helping you?”

“I’ve been sleeping better,” he answered, taking a sip of the tea. Harry didn’t question why he wanted to change the subject. “Like you said, they obviously wouldn’t be able to get rid of the nightmares, but… at least I get a few hours in.”

“That’s good. If you ever need more I can get you some.”

They fell into a silence as Harry got started with his essay. Draco picked up his WSL book and started reading, surprised to feel Harry’s hand rest on his thigh under the table. He couldn’t help but realize Harry was right. In this room, where they were away from everyone, they were in fact just Draco and Harry. 

***

“Morning,” Pansy said as Draco sat down beside her at the Slytherin table for breakfast. “Slept well?”

“Like a log,” he answered, his voice still raspy. “But I’m still tired,” he yawned, smiling when Pansy put some food on his plate. “Thanks.” He looked up to see the family owl in front of him on the table, jumping. 

“Letter from someone?” she asked, taking it from the owl and handing it to Draco, who was wide awake now. His parents had never sent letters except for news about Narcissa. A dark feeling in his chest overcame him as he opened the letter.

Meanwhile, Harry was already eating, today actually making an effort to listen to Ron and Hermione’s conversation. He had another nightmare and wasn’t able to sleep much, but still, knowing that today was Saturday eased him, since he could see Draco again. He looked over to the Slytherin table, raising an eyebrow when he noticed he was reading a letter.

All of a sudden, Draco stood up and exited the Great Hall. Harry stood up, startling Ron and Hermione. 

“What’s wrong?” Hermione asked.

Harry looked over to Pansy, who met his gaze, shrugging in confusion, then nodding her head in the direction that Draco had gone. He nodded slightly, then turned and looked down at Hermione. 

“Er… I need to use the bathroom. I’ll be back,” he said, then quickly left. When he went out to the hallway, he frowned when he saw Draco by the door of the Great Hall. He turned around, his bloodshot meeting Harry’s. There were tears rolling down his face and he was struggling to catch his breath. “Draco,” Harry said softly, taking a step towards him.

“Sorry,” Draco signed, shaking his head. “I can’t…”

“Did something happen?” he asked. “Is it the letter?”

He looked down at the letter in his hand, folding it. “Forget it, Harry,” he said, wiping his tears away quickly. “I’m fine.”

“Bullshit,” he replied, and despite the harsh word, his tone was ever so gentle, concerned. He took Draco’s hand, who held onto it tightly, unable to meet his eyes. He felt as if Harry had seen a stupid, embarrassing side of him.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay,” Harry said. “Do you want to go somewhere more private?”

Draco shrugged, and the other started walking, leading him up the stairs. They made their way to the Room of Requirement. He could feel tears threatening his eyes again, but tried to hold them back as Harry sat him down on the couch, rubbing his hand up and down Draco’s back.

“I’m sorry,” Draco said.

“What are you sorry for?” Harry asked. “Crying?”

“No,” he sighed. “That you have to see me cry.”

The Gryffindor gave him a small smile. “I cry all the time. Well, not all the time. I think I felt a few tears come down my face last week when I dropped my book. Now that’s embarrassing isn’t it? I also cried three days ago because I was in the shower and the water wasn’t hot enough,” he rambled. He looked up to see Draco smiling through his tears. “Sorry.”

“I didn’t know you cry a lot.”

“It’s more like a few tears. I… don’t really allow myself to feel sad about Cedric and everything else, so… I suppose it comes through frustration of other things, if I’m being honest. We all need a good cry, don’t we?”

“Harry,” his voice cracked slightly. He reached forward and took his hand, gulping. “I’m sorry you’ve had to go through something like that.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. It’s not your fault. Neither is it mine,” he said, a hint of a smile on his face. “I’m sorry there’s something bothering you, though,” he tilted his head, leaning forward and kissing Draco’s forehead gently. “I heard that makes people feel better.”

Draco chuckled. “It helped, thank you,” he said while signing, looking down at the letter in his hands. “It’s my mother,” he blurted suddenly. “She’s fallen sick again.”

“Again?” Harry asked, frowning. “Was she sick before?”

“Yeah, um… she fell sick last year and lost her hearing a few months ago,” he spoke, chewing on the inside of his cheek nervously. “That’s why I was asking you for lessons. Anyway, uh… now that she lost her hearing, I thought she would get better, but… my father said it comes and goes. I’m just… worried.”

Harry blinked in confusion, adjusting his glasses. “So there’s no old relative that came to stay with you?” he asked. Draco shook his head. “Oh, Draco,” his voice was soft. He put his arm around Draco, who leaned his head on his shoulder. 

After a moment, he looked up so Harry could understand what he was saying. “Are you mad? That I didn’t tell you?”

“Mad? No,” he said, stroking Draco’s hair, who shut his eyes. Crying had tired him out again. “I wouldn’t have wanted to say it if I was in your place. I understand. Thank you for telling me now.”

“Mhm,” Draco hummed, finding himself getting comfortable in Harry’s arms, slowly drifting off. But just before he fell asleep, a half-asleep thought had occurred to him, one so quick that he perhaps would not remember thinking it when he woke up. One that, if said out loud, would change everything.

_He is worth the risk._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! 
> 
> Sorry for the short chapter but I wanted something to be out before my school starts. I hope I'll be able to make enough time to write! I have finals coming up in June so quite stressful. Especially stressful when the only time I'm inspired to write drarry is when I'm supposed to be doing homework hahah
> 
> I hope you're having a wonderful 2021 so far!  
> \- malfoypolix <3


	12. Chapter 12

Two weeks passed. Things were changing, perhaps for the better. Harry was smiling more, despite the nightmares and visions. The end of their one month was near, yet neither of them had brought it up. They would meet every Friday and Saturday. Fridays consisted of actual work whereas on Saturdays, both of them would find it hard to focus and end up doing something else. 

“Uno,” Draco smirked as he set down his second-last card. “I’m _truly…_ not sorry.”

Harry tried not to smile, staring down at the three cards he had left, lips twitching in amusement. “And I…” he sighed, setting down a plus four card, “am not sorry either. _Truly_.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” he groaned, taking four cards from the pile. “Ooh, be prepared to lose-”

“It’s still my turn. I choose the color red… and uno,” Harry said as he set down a skip-turn card, then a normal red card. “I win.”

“Fuck you,” he set his cards down, folding his arms. “This is the fifth time in a row you’ve won. You’re definitely cheating!” he exclaimed.

“No, I’m just strategic.”

“Strategic? In a stupid Muggle game? Whatever,” Draco huffed, standing up and walking towards the window. The sun was starting to set. He turned around to look at Harry again. “Did we really spend the whole afternoon playing board games?”

“So it wasn’t a stupid Muggle game when you were winning in Monopoly?” Harry questioned, standing up and making his way to Draco, kissing his neck softly, who moved further into Harry’s arms, letting himself get distracted for a moment.

“Hey,” he said, pushing Harry back gently so he could see his lips while he talked, keeping his hands on his face, “I’ll give the Muggles this game. It’s good, realistic, and- are you listening, Harry?”

Harry had been staring at Draco’s lips, yet not a word had registered in his brain. He reached forward and used his index finger to gently trace over the blonde’s lips, smiling slightly to himself. “I’m deaf, of course I can’t listen,” he said.

Draco chuckled. “I fucking hate you,” he whispered, pushing Harry down on the couch. The two smacked each other repeatedly, both squirming and giggling like little kids until Harry rested his head on Draco’s chest. “You’re lucky it’s in the best way possible.”

“I do consider myself lucky,” he stated. He sat up, intertwining both of his hands with Draco’s, looking up into his eyes. “Tomorrow’s Sunday.”

“That it is."

“Can I see you tomorrow?”

“I wish,” Draco sighed, “but Pansy, Blaise and me are going to Hogsmeade tomorrow. Besides, we’ve spent two days together already.”

“Barely a day and a half, actually,” Harry corrected, “and that’s not nearly enough out of seven days a week. Not when Friday evenings are spent _studying_.” He shivered dramatically.

“Mind you, we’re supposed to be studying right now too,” he pointed out. Harry simply smiled, leaning forward and kissing him, shutting his eyes. Draco ran his hands up and down his back, subtly lowering down to his ass. “I said studying, Harry.”

“I’m researching,” Harry moaned into his mouth.

“Researching what? How to turn me on?” Draco asked between kisses.

“How it’s possible to be so attracted to someone’s face when their personality is so shitty,” he responded. Draco pushed him back a little, and they stared at each other in silence until they burst into laughter, moving to kiss each other again. 

***

“You ready to pay, Draco?” Pansy asked as she ran a hand through her hair, looking over at him. “Come on, can’t you choose one thing for him? Don’t you know what he would like? You’ve been dating for like, three weeks now?”

“Shh,” Draco put a finger to her lips, keeping his eyes on the jewelry in front of him. “I need to get him something special. I want him to know how I feel. So I need it to be perfect.”

“A necklace could be good. Easy to hide,” she suggested.

“A necklace of _what,_ though?” he groaned. “None of these would be good for him!” He looked around the store, gasping when something caught his eye. Pansy followed him, raising an eyebrow at the necklace he had picked up. “I know it’s simple, but… it’d symbolize something we talked about.”

“You should get it,” she smiled. “It’s cute. Meanings behind your gifts.”

“I think so too,” he replied, grinning to himself as he looked down at the charm bracelet on his wrist.

_He looks at me with sincerity,_

_Masking his love with hatred,_

_Not an irregularity_

_But what we have created,_

_Something so unexplainable,_

_Usually unattainable,_

_I found in my greatest foe._

_-d.m._

_P.S I hope you had a good Sunday. Write back when possible._

Harry, face flushed, folded the poem and placed it in the box he had. He was thinking of getting another box as his current one was almost overflowing. The Saturday coming up would be there one month anniversary, and he couldn’t help but be nervous. Although they were having fun, did it necessarily mean that he was worth the risk? He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to grow attached to Draco, only to have him break his heart.

Shutting his bedside light off, despite himself, he thought of his boyfriend, with his stupid smile and his stupid hair, because at the very least, he had him for one more week, and he was grateful for even that.

“Hey Potter, still deaf?” Draco asked as they both entered the Great Hall the next morning.

“Hey, Malfoy, still a pain in the ass?” Harry retorted. 

Draco let out a snort, and Hermione and Ron behind Harry stared at him, eyebrows raised. He cleared his throat. “I mean, is that really the best you can do?”

He simply shook his head and made his way to the Gryffindor table, afraid if they looked at each other a moment too long they would burst into laughter. It was incredibly funny to throw insults at each other when they knew they didn’t mean it.

“Malfoy’s been weird recently,” Hermione spoke up, picking at her food. “He seems… bubblier or something. Less nasty, too. He barely even insults me anymore.”

The agreement between Draco and Harry was that they would continue to insult each other, but keep their friends out of it, in the risk of saying something that could possibly start something. That way, they were making it believable enough without causing issues between the friend groups.

“Maybe he’s turning a new leaf,” Harry shrugged. “I don’t suppose you expected him to stay the same forever.”

“No, I suppose not,” she said. “It’s just… quite sudden and unexpected.”

“Can’t argue with that. However, he’s treating me the same, so… I can’t say much,” he said, turning around and catching Draco’s eye, who rolled his eyes at him, then looked away and smiled to himself. “He’s… intolerable in the most tolerable way.”

“Harry, that makes no sense.”

“Yeah, well, he doesn’t make sense either,” Harry replied, looking down at his food. Ron and Hermione exchanged glances, but said nothing in response, choosing not to comment on the fact that he was smiling.

***

The week was slow, and Harry didn’t know if he should’ve been grateful for that or not. While he couldn’t wait for Friday, he was deeply dreading Saturday. It was a moment of truth; or a test he had to pass, except he had brought it upon himself. 

When Friday finally came along, Draco was behaving normally. Had he forgotten? No, he couldn’t have. Their one month deal was clear. He sat down across from Harry, the two silent as they did their own work. Draco now sometimes also did homework with Harry.

“So,” Harry cleared his throat, sneaking glances at Draco. “Tomorrow is…”

He looked up, waiting for Harry to finish, but he simply sat there with his mouth slightly open, frowning. “Tomorrow’s… Saturday,” he finished, gulping nervously. Draco nodded, a small smile on his face.

“Got another Muggle game for you to cheat on?”

Harry was quiet for a moment, then smiled. “I do have another board game in mind, actually,” he beamed. “It’s called Life. What do you think?”

Draco rolled his eyes, but he nodded. “Sounds stupid. Let’s play it.”

As the past week had passed, Draco had been growing nervous. He remembered that Harry too needed to know if their relationship was worth it. He had been trying to tell himself that it was okay; and he had to be grateful for even having a month of Harry Potter. He did not know what love was, and the more time he spent with Harry, he wondered if that was what it was. Enjoying the green in his eyes, his gentle touch, his lips. Perhaps it was the way the snow seemed prettier and how the sunrise was brighter.

He remembered what his parents had told him, more so his father. People needed to be ‘worthy’ of a Malfoy’s love. What was even love, according to a Malfoy? Despite how much he resented Lucius, he couldn’t deny the nights he had found his father pacing back and forth last year, worrying about Narcissa as she fell sicker and sicker by the day. 

Draco looked over at Harry now, who was scribbling away on a piece of paper, mouthing to himself the words he was writing. He smiled slightly to himself. Whatever happened the next day, would happen.

***

“I’m concerned,” Harry said as he held onto Draco tightly, putting a fearful hand to his blindfold. “You’ve taken away the only sense I can depend on! What’s the point of this?” 

Draco just smiled, knowing even if he spoke, it would be pointless. Harry couldn’t see nor hear him. Bringing out his broom, he nudged Harry, who put his hand out. 

“Okay, so we’re going on a broom now? Draco, I’m terrified! Please-” 

Draco put a finger to his lips, kissing him gently, as if to tell him to relax. Harry kissed him back, then huffed. “Fine. I’ll keep it on for five more minutes,” he gave in, wrapping his arms around the other. The fact that he couldn’t see where they were going made him more nervous, but he decided to put his faith into Draco’s riding skills.

When they reached, he carefully let Harry off the broom, then took off his blindfold. “Whoa,” he breathed, looking over to Draco, still holding onto his hand. “Draco!” he stepped forward on the cliff, looking out at the golden sky. The sun was rising. “Now I’m not mad that you made me wake up so early!”

“Harry, six a.m. isn’t that early.”

“Six a.m. is like midnight!” 

Draco shook his head in disbelief, looking down at the sun, a smile on his face. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it, Harry?” he asked, nudging him gently. Harry, who had been staring at Draco’s face, reached forward and gently cupped his face.

“It is,” he whispered.

“My face or the sunrise?” Draco asked jokingly, but his eyes were glinting.

“Both?” Harry answered, his eyes boring into Draco’s, his face all serious suddenly. “Today marks one month,” he whispered. “I didn’t want to say anything, but… it’s not fair. We made an agreement.”

“Why didn’t you want to say anything?” he asked quietly.

“Because,” he looked down in embarrassment, biting his lip, “maybe if you forgot, things don’t have to change again.”

Draco gently used his hand to tilt Harry’s head upwards, his platinum hair falling into his eyes. “Nothing has to change,” he shook his head.

“But the agreement-”

“Was to see if this was worth the risk,” he spoke gently. “And I made my decision.”

Harry said nothing, looking up at him. His bright green eyes in the sunshine only gleamed more. Draco stayed silent for a moment, reaching into his pocket and taking out a small velvet box, handing it to Harry.

“You’re worth the risk,” Draco said while signing, making sure what he said got across fully. 

Harry let out a sigh of relief, feeling a huge weight on his shoulders leaving all of a sudden. He opened the box to see a necklace, with the letter D in silver “D?”

“I love being Draco with you,” he said softly. “Just Draco. Not Malfoy, not a family full of Death Eaters, not a follower. I love being your boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend,” Harry echoed, almost as if he couldn’t believe it. “Really?”

“Really,” Draco nodded, then frowned. “Unless… you decided this isn’t worth the risk. I completely understand. I mean, it’s your life at stake-”

Harry held up the necklace. “Help me put it on?”

The Slytherin looked at him for a moment, then nodded, his shaky hands unable to unclasp the necklace. When he finally put it on, Harry grinned, turning around to look at him, cupping Draco’s face with both of his hands, stroking his cheeks with his thumbs.

“This goes without saying,” Harry said, “but you’re worth the risk too, you know.”

“I am?” Draco’s voice cracked slightly, and he cleared his throat. “I am?” he repeated, more clearly. “Are you sure?”

“What, do you need me to write you a poem to help you believe me?” he asked, and Draco snorted. “Ahem. _Draco, darling, you are quite fun… would it be okay if I made a pun_? _Okay I sort of set myself for failure here… do you want some Butterbeer_?”

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” he laughed. “And stop making fun of me! I spend time on those poems!”

“I’m not making fun of you! That was a genuine attempt,” he said, trying not to laugh. “Would you like me to try again?” He straightened his back, running his hands through Draco’s hair. “Ahem ahem, _my love_ -”

“You are such a pain in the ass,” Draco scoffed.

“But now I’m _your_ pain in the ass,” Harry winked, grinning widely and fiddling with his necklace. “Good luck. I can’t even stand myself sometimes. I’m being a hundred percent serious-”

He quickly shut up Harry by capturing his lips in a kiss, who shut his eyes and wrapped his arms around Draco’s neck, who pushed him down on the ground, kissing his neck. Harry arched his back, leaning his head back, smiling. Draco had told him what he was hoping for, and now, he could melt into his touch without having the lingering feeling at the back of his head, telling him that Draco would leave him soon.

“Say that again,” Draco said when he pulled away, panting. He had locked Harry in place with either leg by his hips. 

“What?” Harry asked, putting his hands under Draco’s sweater, looking up at him. “I can’t stand myself sometimes?”

“No, the part where you said you were mine.”

“I…” he laughed slightly, confused. “I’m yours?”

“Wow,” Draco said, inching his face closer to Harry’s, “it feels so good to hear that… right here,” he took Harry’s hand and put it over his heart. 

Harry stayed silent for a moment. “I was under the impression it was making you feel good here,” he said, putting his hand over Draco’s crotch, who gasped slightly. The two stared at each other for a moment too long. Harry’s lips twitched in amusement. “Am I wrong?"

Draco licked his lips, carefully removing Harry’s hand from his crotch. “No."

“How did you find this place, anyway?” he cleared his throat, looking around. They were on a cliff and they could barely see the castle in the distance, it was somewhat of a foggy sight. He looked back at Draco, who wasn’t making an attempt to move from his position.

“I was riding around on my broom a few months ago… upset about things. I needed to get away from my friends and everyone… I love Pansy and all, but…” he trailed off into silence, then shook his head. “Anyway, I found this place. I come here to clear my head sometimes.”

“I suppose we all need our safe space,” Harry nodded. Draco nodded, smiling slightly.

“And… there’s no one for miles,” he replied, tracing his index finger up Harry’s chest and wiggling his eyebrows rather suggestively. Harry let out a laugh in response. His face was a deep shade of red.

He gulped when he noticed Draco’s serious expression. “Brilliant,” he blurted. “That’s just… brilliant,” he breathed when he felt Draco’s hands under his shirt. He felt Draco’s lips all over his neck, his face, and eventually his stomach, feeling the cold air against his skin.

Draco tapped him gently, and Harry opened his eyes. “Are you cold?” he asked. “We… can go somewhere else.” Despite what he was saying, he was slowly moving his hands down to Harry’s trousers, who held back a moan. “Hey, are you sure about this?”

“Yes,” he replied, leaning back. He shut his eyes again, then quickly opened them. “Are you sure?”

Draco grinned, undoing the button of Harry’s jeans. “Merlin, yes.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW okay I love this chapter so much!!
> 
> Sorry it took me so long to update! It's been a busy week. I have loads of school work and my birthday was a few days ago too ^^
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


	13. Chapter 13

Draco rubbed his eyes, groaning gently when he reached around for the alarm clock on his bedside table that was, in his opinion, much louder than it needed to be. A smile crept up his lips when he saw the time on the clock, the bright moonlight falling into the dorm. Luckily, it seemed that none of his roommates had heard the alarm.

He got out of bed, quickly getting ready, putting on the first pair of jeans and a sweater that he could find, brushing his teeth and sneaking out the door. 

It was five a.m. on a Saturday, the middle of March. A month had passed and things for Harry had been growing tense, but he barely said any of it to Draco. This was mainly because he didn’t want him to worry, but also the fact that Draco was really the only distraction he had from all of it. 

Draco entered the Room of Requirement, his gaze softening when he noticed a bed in their room, Harry practically passed out on it. He slowly made his way to the bed, but frowned when he noticed Harry’s sweaty forehead and the frown on his face. Chewing on his lip, he gently reached forward and caressed Harry’s cheek.

After a few minutes, Draco stood up to move to the couch, deciding he would wait till Harry woke up. Harry grabbed a hold of his arm, his eyes fluttering. 

Draco looked back down at him. “You’re awake?"

“Cedric…” Harry croaked, then sat up quickly, as if he remembered something suddenly, scrambling to get up. “I need to get to get to him before-”

“Harry, calm down,” he said, putting his hands on Harry’s shoulders, looking at him reassuringly, but he was still trying to get out of bed. Draco quickly stopped him. “Hey, calm down, you’re safe.” 

He looked into Draco’s eyes, then shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said, wiping the tears off his face that he hadn’t even noticed were there. “I just… I forgot where I was for a second. I’m fine.” He moved to stand up, but Draco pushed him back gently.

“You’re still a bit disoriented. Just gather yourself for a moment,” he said gently, concern written all over his face. He sat on the bed just beside Harry, stroking his hair softly as they sat in silence. Draco looked down at Harry’s trembling hands, but didn’t say anything, 

Harry’s breathing steadied as he calmed down. He sat up, moving away from Draco’s touch, tracing over the scar on his forehead. Turning his head, his eyes met silver ones that were looking at him rather expectantly.

“Was it a… dream, or…” his tone was careful, almost as if he was afraid to say the wrong thing.

Harry licked his dry lips, his eyes faraway. “A dream,” he answered, then shook his head. “A nightmare.”

“Right,” Draco nodded, looking around the room uncomfortably. “How often-”

“I’m fine,” he shook his head. His mouth was dry and his chest was aching for something; anything to fill the emptiness. Was it Cedric? Or was it Harry’s inability to save him? Either way, he couldn’t deny it. Cedric was gone because of him. “We don’t need to talk about it.”

“Harry, it’s not something you should be ignoring.” 

“I said I’m _fine_ ,” he snapped, his tone harsh. 

“Fine isn’t acceptable for me,” Draco replied, “not when it’s an obvious lie.”

“I’m not-” Noticing his expression, Harry’s eyes darkened. He folded his arms. “What do you want me to say? That I’m having nightmares of someone who died because of me? Because it was my fault? Or do you want to know about the visions I’ve been getting? Talking about isn’t going to help me.” 

“Well, not talking about it hasn’t helped. Why don’t you try something new?”

“No. I have a system. I dream, I wallow for five minutes, then I move on. It’s easier that way,” he sighed, swiftly losing the energy to argue with Draco. 

“It just… it hurts to see you like this.”

When Harry didn’t respond, he took in a sharp breath, keeping his eyes fixated on him. “Something happened to you. Something bad. You should talk about it. Sort your feelings through, not shut it out and hope it goes away.”

“I’m not hurting anyone by doing it my way,” Harry responded, his voice hoarse.

“You’re hurting yourself,” Draco whispered, “even if you don't realize it.”

“It’s easier to hurt myself than see others get hurt because of me,” he said before he could stop himself. He shook his head. “Forget it. I won’t say this again. Just leave the issue alone. I’m fine.”

“Harry-”

“Leave it,” he pushed Draco off of him. Slipping on his shoes, he stood up, turning to leave. Draco scrambled out of the bed, blocking his way quickly. “Draco, stop it.”

“Where are you going?”

He threw his hands in the air, shaking his head. “Back to my dorm. I don’t want to be around you right now.”

“I’m just worried!”

“I don’t need you to be worried!” 

“Why? What’s so wrong with that? I’m your boyfriend, Harry,” he said, taking a step closer.

“It’s not that, but… talking about it with you…” Trailing off into silence, Harry ran a hand through his hair, knowing that what he was about to say would be bad. His eyes moved down to Draco’s arm. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” asked Draco, starting to grow impatient. When Harry didn’t answer, he scoffed slightly, following his gaze to his arm. “Do you think I’m going to run off to tell my father about the dreams and visions you’re having? Is that it? You think I’m a Death Eater?”

“I didn’t say that-”

“You don’t need to,” his voice was shaky, following Harry’s gaze. “It’s pretty obvious.” He rolled up both of his sleeves. “No Dark Mark here, but do you want to inspect the rest of my body, too?” 

“Draco-”

“If you couldn’t trust me,” Draco whispered, trying to keep his voice steady, “why did you lie to me?”

“I didn’t lie to you, Draco. This is my life on the line-”

“You think mine isn’t? Do you have any idea what would happen to me if my father found out, let alone the Dark Lord?” he raised his voice. “I go to bed every night thinking about how sooner or later I’m going to become one of them, and it’s painful, because I don’t want to hurt you. But turns out…”

“Do you think this is easy for me?” Harry stormed. 

“No, I don’t,” Draco shook his head, curling his lip in disgust, “because I’m considerate of your situation. But why should I care about this so much if you clearly can’t trust me?” 

There was a stunned silence, and Harry felt his throat closing up, unable to look Draco in the eyes. Letting out a bitter laugh, the blond shrugged. Words couldn’t describe the humiliation - or perhaps the hurt - he was feeling.

“Tell me one thing, Harry,” he spoke again. “Why the fuck did you tell me I’m worth the risk?”

“Because you are-”

“Only when _I_ have something to lose?”

“This isn’t about you, Draco,” Harry fumed, “it’s bigger than you. It’s bigger than me, even. If I trust the wrong person, the entire Wizarding World could be in danger. What part of this is so hard for you to understand?”

“The part where you said you liked me in spite of that. The part where you told me I was worth risking all of that. The part where I thought you _trusted_ me.”

“What, you think I don’t trust you because I won’t tell you a few nightmares and visions I’ve had?”

“No. It’s bigger than that. You don’t fucking trust that when it comes to the Dark Lord, I’d be able to keep my mouth shut about you. Do you think I’m reporting everything to my father or something?”

“You can’t expect trust to build so easily, not with us,” Harry shook his head.

“We’ve been together for two months!”

“Yeah, and we’ve been enemies for five years! Do you expect that to just go away now that we’re dating? You expect me to just forget the kinds of things you’ve done?” 

Draco nodded, his eyes cold. Harry knew that look all too well, and he couldn’t help but wonder if they had just reversed what had been six months of development in their relationship as Draco left the room of requirement.

***

“He’s been like that all day,” Hermione was saying in a low voice, frowning as she looked over at him. Ron and Ginny turned to look at Harry, who was curled up on the couch in the Gryffindor Common Room, staring into the fire. “Harry,” she said in a gentle voice, tapping him on the shoulder.

He jumped, looking up at her, concerned. “What?”

“Are you… okay?” she asked while signing. “Did something happen?”

He shook his head, turning his attention back to the fireplace. Hermione and Ron exchanged glances. Much to their surprise, he spoke. “Yes,” he sighed, craning his head to look at them, “but I don’t want to talk about it. Okay?"

“Well… at least come to dinner. You’ve been sitting here all day,” Hermione said, frowning. She held her hand out, and he reluctantly took it, standing up. She wondered if it was a good time to tell him that she knew he had a girlfriend, but decided against it. He had been easily irritable lately when it came to things like that. 

They made their way to the Great Hall. Harry avoided looking at the Slytherin table at costs. If he saw Draco, he was unsure what he would do. It was better if he simply avoided him because what he knew was that the cold, empty look in Draco’s eyes would be too much to bear.

Draco’s face was paler than usual; and Pansy was practically force-feeding him. “Come on, I’m not your mother, Draco!” she complained. “Are you going to tell me what happened or just sit here like a baby?”

“Baby?” he echoed, looking highly offended.

“Out of everything I said _that’s_ what you choose to respond to? For fuck’s sake,” she shook her head, then frowned when she noticed his expression. “Come on, Dray. We can go somewhere else if you want… hey, there’s your lover!”

“Lover-” he started, outraged, looking up to see Hermione, Harry, Ron and Ginny all going to sit at the Gryffindor table. He wrinkled his nose in disgust, looking back to Pansy beside him. “He can’t trust me.”

“With what?”

“Anything?” he responded, burying his face in his hands. “It’s stupid. _He’s_ incredibly stupid.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Pansy was expecting him to scoff or be annoyed, but much to her surprise, he looked up, his eyes watery, nodding. Startled, she nodded, quickly getting up, gesturing for him to come with her. She linked her arm through his and they went up to the Astronomy Tower. Pansy knew this was a place, if anything, would help calm him down.

They walked towards the railing, and Pansy looked up at the stars, smiling sympathetically when she heard him sniffle. “He can’t trust you?” she asked, rubbing his back soothingly as he kept his eyes on the sky.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed him, but… for fuck’s sake,” he quickly wiped his tears away, avoiding her gaze. “I thought Harry could trust me. He… thinks I’d go off telling my father if he says anything.”

She sat down on the floor, stretching her back. “I thought he said you were worth the risk for everything.”

Draco sank down to the ground too, fiddling with the bracelet on his wrist. “I thought we’d be able to move past it, but… with the way our relationship started… maybe there can’t be full trust between us.”

“Did you two break up?”

“No. I don’t know,” he responded, feeling his eyes well up again. He hated crying; once he started, he just wouldn’t be able to stop. “We both said awful things. But the bottom line is, I wanted to be there for him, and he didn’t let me because he can’t trust me.”

“Sounds like something you both need to work through.”

“Pansy, I’ve never done anything for him to question my intentions.”

“Yes, but you used to be enemies,” she pointed out, frowning. “Other than that, you come from a family that wants him dead. It’s only natural that he’s wary. Both of you need to sit down and talk about it calmly.”

“I don’t want to,” he whined, groaning. “Besides, I stormed off. I’m not exactly sure who’s supposed to approach the other after an argument like that…”

“It sounds awful,” Pansy admitted, putting an arm around his shoulder. “But give it time. Do you have any idea how genuinely happy you’ve been the past two months? Don’t let go of him so easily.”

He gave her an unsure look, but nodded.

***

Two weeks later, when Harry, Hermione and Ron were trying to make their way to the Room of Requirement, Umbridge had caught them with the Inquisitorial Squad. They took the three directly to her office, however the rest of the group was yet to be found.

Harry and Draco had not talked since their argument; and things were rather depressing. There were no poems written, none sent. Draco didn’t want to face how he was feeling, nor the fear that they would not be able to move past this.

“You understand what this concerns, don’t you, Mr. Potter?” Umbridge asked, and Harry wondered if she was purposely speaking fast so he wouldn’t be able to read her lips. He looked over to Hermione, who started to translate for him through sign language. “None of that will be necessary, Ms. Granger. Who knows what sort of lies you two might be cultivating?”

“How do you expect him to understand you if-”

“ _Enough_ , Ms. Granger!” she raised her voice. Her patience seemed to be wearing thin. Harry caught the eye of Draco, who seemed just annoyed as he did. “Mr. Fudge will be here soon. I need to greet him. Meanwhile, all of you,” she snapped her fingers to the Inquisitorial Squad, “find the rest of the group.”

The Squad started to file out, but Draco and Pansy hung back. “We’ll keep watch, Professor Umbridge,” he said, trying his best to sneer. “Make sure these three don’t try to come up with some way to escape.”

She looked at him for a moment, then smirked. “Good idea, Mr. Malfoy.”

With that, she left, shutting the door to her office behind her. Hermione and Ron both turned to Harry, who looked extremely frustrated. “How did she find out about this?” Hermione asked in a low voice, shooting a glare at Draco who was looking at her, frowning.

“I can think of someone,” Harry responded, turning to look at Draco.

He blinked in surprise, meeting Harry’s eyes. “What, you think I did this? I didn’t even know what you were up to!”

“You knew about the Room of Requirement,” he folded his arms. “It wouldn’t have been hard to deduce I was using it for other things too.”

“Well, yes, but why would I say anything? I hate to break it to you, but I didn’t do this. Although I’m sure you’ve been actively waiting for me so fuck something up between us,” Draco snapped, glaring at Harry.

Hermione and Ron exchanged glances, mildly horrified but also very confused at what was going on. Pansy, in the background, pursed her lips, deciding it was best if she kept her mouth shut.

“That’s not true,” he replied. “I just… you know, you could be doing this to get on my nerves.”

“Harry, if you honestly believe that, then I don’t know what to say to you,” Draco said, his expression faltering suddenly. The two were silent for a moment, then he spoke again. “I don’t know what you want me to do! You told me this was worth the risk.”

“Being worth the risk and trust are two different things,” Harry mumbled, but he knew it was wrong of him. His paranoia and fear was getting the better of him.

Hermione, impatient, tapped him on the shoulder. “Harry, what the hell are you two on about?” she asked, but he didn’t even look in her direction, too fixated on Draco.

“I’ve not done anything to prove you can’t trust me.”

“You’ve not done anything to prove I can,” Harry retorted.

“That’s absurd!”

“I mean…” Pansy spoke up, fiddling with the things on Umbridge’s desk, “Draco, you come from a family full of Death Eaters, and there’s been five years’ worth of rivalry and distrust between you two. I don’t blame him. On the other hand…” she looked up, startled to see everyone staring at her. “Did I overstep?”

“Go on,” Harry raised an eyebrow. “On the other hand?”

“On the other hand…” she repeated, “Draco clearly doesn’t want to follow the rest of his family’s footsteps, and it’s not as if he’s ever done anything in the past few months to cause distrust. You both knew what you were getting into and even had a month to test it out. Why is this an issue now?”

Harry looked at her, trying to hide his surprise. Though before the conversation could go further, Hermione slammed her hands on the desk, glaring at Pansy, who just smiled coolly back at her.

“Hold on,” Hermione interjected, glaring. “What’s all this about?”

“Wait a minute,” Ron spoke up. “The letters from D… they were from _Draco Malfoy_?”

“ _What_?” she raised her voice, outraged.

Harry exchanged glances with Draco, before sighing. “I’ll explain it later. For now, we need to focus on the actual matter at hand. It had to be someone from the group,” he spoke, turning his attention to his friends. 

As Harry, Hermione and Ron dissolved into a silent conversation through sign language, Draco walked over to stand beside Pansy, frowning. She took his hand and squeezed it gently, trying to give him a reassuring look.

***

When they were finally sent back to their dorm rooms, Harry sunk down on the couch in the Gryffindor Common Room, leaning back, thinking about what Pansy had said. She was right. Draco hadn’t done something the past few months for there to be uncertainty. 

Both Hermione and Ron stood in front of him somewhat menacingly. “Are you going to tell us why the hell you and Malfoy were talking about _trust_?” Hermione asked, folding her arms.

“I’d rather not,” he groaned, but knew this was coming sooner or later. He looked around the common room, glad to see it was practically empty, then gestured for them to sit down. “We uh… we’ve been dating for two months now. Or were."

They both gaped at Harry in horror. “So-” Hermione spoke.

“You and-” Ron started.

“Malfoy?” she finished, flabbergasted. “Is he the one who kept sending you those love letters?”

“They’re actually poems,” he mumbled, but shook his head. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way. I just didn’t know how you’d react to me being bisexual, let alone dating our worst enemy.”

“I’d imagine that Voldemort is our worst enemy, but I get what you mean,” she replied, smiling slightly, then her expression hardened again. “But he’s Malfoy! He’s cruel, annoying, and… a dick!”

“Yes, but… he’s also apologetic, kind, nerdy, and stupid,” Harry sighed. “And it’s so easy to be around him. We were friends for a few months before and even had a while to try it out. So, please, just don’t tell anyone, okay? Especially when I don't even know where our relationship is going to go after this…”

“Well, of course we’ll support you being bisexual,” Ron nodded, “but you can do so much better than Malfoy, mate.”

“I don’t see it that way,” he shook his head. “I just… I’ve been afraid that if I say something, he could potentially tell his father or Voldemort. That’s what our argument was about. It’s been hard for me to trust him because of my fear.”

“Well, whatever Pansy said makes sense. You had time to try it out. Why’s the distrust coming up now?” Hermione asked. “Not that I blame you. Malfoy’s not exactly trustworthy.”

“He wanted to know what my nightmares have been about. I was too embarrassed to tell him. Not only that, I don’t want it to be used against me some way. What if You Know Who finds out my deepest fear and makes it come true? I know he might find out either way because he’s been into my mind, but…” Harry trailed off into silence, frowning. “I just…”

“Yeah?” Hermione urged gently.

“I just don’t want him to use Draco.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey loves!! hope you enjoyed this chapter!!
> 
> Sorry for the inconsistent posting but I want to write when I feel that I am able to produce the best quality, not just rush to write whatever so I can keep view numbers up. I want the best quality for this fic because I truly love it so much. I hope you guys can understand. Some days I just don't feel the writing is going to be the best I can do, so I take breaks. However, I'll try my best to be consistent.
> 
> \- malfoypolix


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